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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEKS 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE 
CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was  taken  out  on 
the  day  indicated  below: 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/oscarorboywhohasOOaimw 


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OSC  AE: 


OR     THE 


BOY  ¥H0  HAD  HIS  OWN  ¥AY. 


BY 

WALTER    AIMWELL, 

AUTHOR     OF     "CLINTON,"      "bOT'S     OWN     GUIDE,"     ETC. 


eSFftl)    KUustratfcns. 


BOSTON: 
aOULD   AND   LINCOLN 

59     WASHINGTON     STREET. 
NEW  YORK  :  SHELDON,  LAMPORT  &  BLAKEMAN, 

115      NASSAU       STREET. 

185G. 


( 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  185-1,  by 

GOULD    AND    LINCOLN, 

In  (he  Clerk's  OflBce  of  the  District  Court,  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


THOMAS    B.    SMITH, 
STEREOTTPER   AXD  ELECTROTYPRR, 

216  William  St.,  N.  Y. 


PREFACE 


In  the  story  of  Oscae  is  portrayed  the 
career  of  a  bright  but  soraewhat  headstrong 
boy,  who  was  over-indulged  by  his  parents, 
and  who  usually  managed  to  "have  his  own 
wa}^,"  by  hook  or  by  crook.  The  book  is  de- 
signed to  exhibit  some  of  the  bad  consequences 
of  acquiring  a  wayward  and  lawless  spirit,  and 
of  falling  into  indolent,  untruthful,  and  disobe- 
dient habits.  These  are  its  main  lessons,  in- 
termingled with  Avhich  are  a  variety  of  others, 
of  scarcely  less  importance  to  the  young, 

Winchester,  Mass. 


Y 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

"trecepts  may  lead,  but  examples  draw." 

"  The  Aimwell  Stoeies  "  are  designed  to  portray  some 
of  the  leading  phases  of  juvenile  character,  and  to  point 
out  their  tendencies  to  future  good  and  evil.  Tliis  they 
undertake  to  do,  by  describing  the  quiet,  natural  scenes 
and  incidents  of  every-day  life,  in  city  and  country,  at 
home  and  abroad,  at  school  and  upon  the  play-ground, 
rather  than  by  resorting  to  romantic  adventures  and 
startling  effects.  While  their  main  object  is  to  persuade 
the  young  to  lay  well  the  foundations  of  their  characters, 
to  win  them  to  the  Avays  of  virtue,  and  to  incite  them  to 
good  deeds  and  noble  aims,  the  attempt  is  also  made  to 
mingle  amusing,  curious  and  useful  information  with  the 
moral  lessons  conveyed.  It  is  hoped  that  the  volumes 
will  thus  be  made  attractive  and  agreeable,  as  well  as  in- 
structive, to  the  youthful  reader. 

Each  volume  of  the  "Aimwell  Stories  "will  be  com- 
plete and  independent  of  itself,  although  a  connecting 
thread  will  run  through  the  whole  series.  The  order  of 
the  volumes,  so  far  as  completed,  is  as  follows : 

I.    OSCAE  ;  OE,  THE  BoY  WHO  HAD  HIS  OwX  WaY. 

II.  Clixtox  ;  OE,  Boy-Life  in  the  Couxtey. 

m.  Ella  ;  or,  Turxixg  o\ter  a  New  Leaf.     {In  prep- 
aration.) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


A    KIT  CHEN     SCE  N  E  . 

Pack 
Bridget  and  her  little  realm— A  troop  of  rude  intruders— An  imperious 
demand — A  flat  refusal— Prying  investigations — Biddy's  displeasure 
aroused— Why  Oscar  could  not  find  the  pie — Another  squabble,  and 
its  consequences— Studying  under  diiTicuUies — Shooting  peas — Ralph 
and  George  provoked— A  piece  of  Bridget's  mind— Mrs.  Preston- 
George's  complaint— Oscar  rebuked — A  tell-tale — Oscar's  brothers 
and  sisters— His  father  and  mother 15 


CHAPTER  II. 

OSCAR    IX    SCHOOL. 

^  Oscar's  school — The  divisions  and  classes — Lively  and  pleasant  sights 
— Playing  schoolmaster — Carrying  the  joke  too  far  to  be  agreeable — 
Oscar's  indolence  in  schocjl- Gazing  at  the  blackboard— A  release 
from  study,  and  an  unexpected  privilege — Whiling  away  an  hour — 
Doing  nothing  harder  work  than  studying — A  half-learned  lesson — 
A  habit  of  Oscar's— A  ridiculous  blunder — Absurd  mistakes  of  the 
British  government  about  the  great  lakes — Oscar  less  pardonable  than 
the\ -^Another  blunder — Difference  between  guessing  and  knowing — 
Oscar  detained  after  school— His  recitation — Good  advice — Remem- 
bering the  blackboard — Willie  Davenport — A  pounding  promised.. 


VI  CONTENTS.. 

CHAPTER   III. 

PAYING    OFF    A    GRUDGE. 

PAGE 

Whistler— Why  Rill ph  liked  him— Why  Oscar  disliked  him— A  cau- 
tion—A  sudden  attack— An  unexpected  rescue— The  stranger's  ad- 
vice— A  brave  and  manly  answer — Whistler  refuses  to  expose  Os- 
car's name — The  boys  separate — George's  report  of  the  scene,  and 
Ral])h's  explanation— Oscar's  return — His  sister's  rebuke — His  moth- 
er's inquiries — Misrepresentations — Willie  exonerated — Forgiving 
enemies— An  unpleasant  promise  called  to  mind — ?ilr.  Preston's  ac- 
tion in  the  matter — Oscar  refuses  tu  punish  himself— The  chamber — 
A  surprise — Falsehood — Exposure — The  account  settled— Silence — 
Late  rising  and  a  cold  breakfast — What  Mrs.  Preston  said — Its  effect 
upon  Oscar — Concealed  emotion— Mistaken  notions  of  manliness — 
Good  impressions  made— George's  narrow  escape 37 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE     HOTEL. 

Alfred  Walton — His  home — Hotel  acquaintances — Coar-e  stories  and 
jokes — Andy — His  peculiarities — Tobacco — A  spelling  lesson — The 
disappointment — Anger — Bright  and  her  family — Fun  and  mischief 
— Tiie  owner  of  the  ptips — A  promise — A  ride  to  the  depot — A  walk 
about  the  building — Examining  wheels— The  tracks— An  arrival — A 
swarm  of  passengers — Two  young  travellers  taken  in  tow — Their 
story — Arrival  at  the  hotel — A  walk — Purchase  of  deadly  weapons — 
A  heavy  bill — Gifts  to  Alfred  and  Oscar — A  brave  speech  for  a  little 
fellow — Going  home "...     51 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     YOUNG     TRAVELLERS. 

The  Sabbath — Uneasiness — Monday  morning — A  pressing  invitation  to 
play  truant — Hesitation — The  decision — Oscar's  misgivings — Maiv 
ners  of  the  two  travellers — A  small  theft— Flight — A  narrow  escape — 


<^0  N  T  E  N  T  S  .  Vll 

4^  PAGE 

A  costly  cake  of  sugar— The  bridge  to'Chailestown— The  monu- 
ment— The  navy  yard — Objects  of  interest — [acidents  of  Joseph's 
Yife—^  slight  test  of  his  courage — Oscar's  plans — Going  to  dinner— 
A  grand  "  take  in" — Alfred's  disclosures — Real  character  of  the 
young  travellers— Their  tough  stories — A  mutual  difficult}' — Confess- 
ing what  cannot  be  concealed — Good  advice  and  mild  repi  oof — The 
teacher's  leniency  explained .     64 


OHA.PTEK  VI. 

wo  RK. 

A  command — Passing  it  along — Reluctant"  obedience — A  poor  excu*e 
— A  bad  habit — Employment  for  vacation — Oscar's  opposition  to  tlie 
plan— Frank  the  errand-boy— Thanksgiving  week—A  busy  time- 
Oscar's  experience  as  store-boy — Learning  to  sweep — Doing  work 
w^ — A  tempting  invitation — Its  acceptance — A  ride — Driving  horses 
— The  errand — The  return — Oscar  at  the  store — Sent  off  ''  with  a  flea 
in  his  ear" — The  matter  brought  up  again — Oscar's  excuse  unsatisfac- 
torj' — Ralph's  services  rewarded — Difference  between  the  two  boys . . 


CHAPTER  VII. 

T  H  A»N"K  SGIYING-DAT. 

Grandmother's  ari-ival-Surprisos— Presents— Oscar  at  a  shooting- 
match— Bad  company— Cruel  sport— Home  again— Prevarication— 
A  remonstrance — Impudence,  and  a  silent  rebuke — The  dinner — A 
stormy  afternoon — A  disappointment — Evening  in  the  parlor — A  call 
for  stor.es — How  the  Indians  punished  bad  boys — What  Oscar 
thought  of  it— An  Indian  story— The  hostile  party— The  alarm— The 
stratagem — The  onset — The  retreat — The  victory — Laplot  River — 
Widow  Storey's  retreat — Misfortunes  of  her  husband — Her  enter- 
prise and  industry — Fleeisig  from  the  British — The  subterranean 
abode — Precautions  to  prevent  discovery— Uncle  James — The  fellow 
who  was  caught  in  his  own  trap — Old  Zigzag — His  oddities — His 
tragic  end— How  the  town  of  Barre,  Vt.,  got  its  name— A  well-spent 
evening 


Viii  )  CONTENT*. 

0«APTER  VIIL 

r  G-RANDMOTHER  LEE, 


TA.^4 


One  of  her4idl)it3— Ella's  complaint — Alice's  reproof— Ella's  rude  re- 
ply to  iier  graudmother — A  mild  rqbuke — A  sterner  reproof— Shame 
and  repgnlance— Popping  corn — Ger'*i-ge?s'  selfishness— A  fruitless  / 
search  for  the  corn-bag — Bad  Temper — An  ineffectual  reproof- 
's George's  obstinacy — How  he  becam»;  Elfish — Difficulty  of  breaking 
up  a  bad  habit — What,  h?  lust  by  his  selfishness — Oscars  dug — He  Is 
named  "Tiger" — His  po^lrait- His  roguishness — Oscar's  trickli^m 
his  grandmother — Unfortunate  endiag— Tiger's  destructiveness^iV 
mystery,  ^id  its  probable  sonuiuu — Oscar's  falsehood— Tiger's  ban- 
ishment decreed,  but  not  carried  out — Grandmother  Lee's  remon- 
strance.with  Oscar— Bridget's  onfi»t^Osear's  excuse— Moral  princi- 
ple wanting— Mrs.  Lee's  departure 105y 


i 

CHAPTER  IX.  ^' 


N^%»^ 


Coasting— Oscar's  sled — Borrowing  and  lendiu|— A  merry  scene  on 
the  Common — Various  sleds  and  characters^A  collision— Damage 
to  Ralph  and  the  "  Clipper" — Not  accideiftal — The  guilty  parties  call- 
ed to  account— No  satisfaction  obtained— Ralph's  trouble — Oscar's 
anger — His  revenge — A  fight — Its  termination — Skating — Tiger  on  the 
ice — His  plunge  into  an  air-hole — His  alarm  and  escape — Going  home 
— Unfounded  fears  awakened — Tiger's  shame — A  talk  about  air-holes 
— What  they  are  for,  and  how  they  are  made — Skaters  should  be 
cautious— A  change  in  Tiger's  habits — A  great  snow-8t*jrra — Appear- 
ance of  the  streets — Fun  for  the  boys — A  job  for  Oscar — He  is  wiser 
than  his  father — Nullification  of  a  command — The  command  repeat- 
ed— Icy  sidewalks — Laziness  and  its  excuses — A  wise  suggestion — 
Duty  neglected — Oscar  called  to  account — His  excuses— Unpleasant 
consequences  of  his  negligence — The  command  repeated,  with  a 
^  snapper"  at  the  end— The  dreaded  task  completed 122 


-r 


C  0  N  T  EN  T  S  .  ix 


Chapter  x.  ' 

APPEARAXCES. 

PAGE 

A  compulsorj  ride— Merited  retribution— A  sad  plight  for  a  proud  boy 
—Laughter  and  ridicule — Oscar's  neatness  and  love  of  dress — The 
patched  jacket— Oscar's  objections  to  it — Benny  Wri^t,  the  boy  of 
many  patches — His  character — The  jacket  question  peremptorily  set- 
tled— A  significant  shake  of  the  head — A  watch  wanted — Why  boys 
carry  watches — Punctuality — Oscar's  tardiness  at  school — The  real 
cause  of  it — Thinking  too  mucli  of  outside  appearances — Character 
of  more  consequence  than  cloth — An  offer— The  conditions— A  hard 
question — How  to  accomplish  an  object-rOscar's  waywardness — 
Boarding-school  discipline — The  High  School — A^  anticipated  nov- 
elty   .'!'. '. ■. . .   140 


(K' 


\r^  CHAPTER   XL 

THE    MORAL     LESSON. 

Obcar's  shrewdness— His  reputalion  for  integrity — A  new  want— Per- 
plexity— A  chance  fur  speculation — A  dishonest  device — Its  success\ 
— Secrecy — The  fraud  discovered — Oscar's  defence— Restitution  re- 
fused— Indignation— The  Monday  morning  lesson  in  morals — Dis- 
honesty—Rectifying mistakes — The.  principle  unfolded— Restoring 
lost  articles — A  case  for  Oscar  to  decide — His  reluctant  decision — 
Taking  advantage  of  another's  ignorance— Duty  of  restitutioji-^Other 
forms  of  dishonesty — Better  to  be  cheated  than  to  chejirf— Effect  of 
the  lesson  upon  Oscar .A. 153 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SICKNESS. 

Wet  feet— A  command  disobeyed— Dabbling  in  the  water— Playing 
on  the  ice— An  unexpected  ad<^'enture— Afloat  on  an  ice-cake— xi 
consultation— Danger  and  alarm— Spectators — A  call  fur  help — A 
critical  situation — The  rescue— Effects  of  the  adventure — Feverish 


Z  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

dreams— Sirange  feelings— The  dDCtor's  visit— Lung  fever- The  Lat- 
in prescription — Oscar's  removal — He  grows  worse — Peevishness — 
Passing  the  crisis— Improved  behavior — Getting  better— General  re- 
joicings—Further improvement— Return  of  a  bad  habit— Fretfnlness 
and  impatience — A  dispute — First  attempt  to  sit  up— lis  failure 
— First  day  in  an  easy  chair — The  sweets  of  convalescence— Danger  of 
a  relapse 164 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

GETTIJTG     WELL. 

Hunger— An  evil  suggestion— First  visit  down  stairs— Midnight  supper 
— Weakness  and  exhaustion — An  ill  turn— The  doctors  visit — The 
mysteiy  explained— Contents  oT  a  sick  boy's  stomach — The  doctor's 
abrupt  farewell— His  recall — Promise  of  obedience— Punishment  for 
imprudence — Directions — Effects  of  the  relapse— Slow  recovery — The 
menagerie  procession — A  wet  morning — Disobedience— Exposure, 
and  its  consequences — Reading — The  borrowed  book — The  curious 
letter — Puzzles,  with  illustrations- Guessing  riddles — Oscar's  treat- 
ment of  Benjamin— His  present  feelings  towards  him— Ella's  copy  of 
the  letter— Oscar's  growing  impatience— An  arrival — Uncle  John — 
The  losgess — Cousins  never  seen — A  journey  decided  upon — Solution 
of  riddles,  conundrums,  &c 179 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE     JOURNEY. 

Setting  out — A  long  and  wearisome  ride — Portland— The  hotel — Going 
to  bed — The  queer  little  lamp — Lonesomeness— The  evening  prayer 
—Morning— Breakfast— The  railroad  depot— Oscar's  partialily  for 
stage-coaches  and  good  horses— Eighty  miles  by  steam— Dinner — 
The  stage-coach — An  outside  seat — The  team  and  the  roads — Vil- 
lages—Mail  bags— Forests  and  rivers— End  of  the  stage  ride— Jerry— 
An  introduciiun — A  ride  in  a  wagon — Bashfulness — An  invisible 
village- The  journey's  end— Mrs.  Preston— More  shy  cousins— Sup- 
per— Evening  employments — Attempting  to  "  scrape  acquaintance" 
—Mary  tells  Oscar  his  name— More  questions— The  tables  turned — 
Getting  acquainted  in  bed • 193 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  XV. 

BROOKDAiLE. 

PAQE 

A  dull  morning— New  acquaintances— Inquiries  about  Jeny's  school- 
time — A  long  vacation  -Work — Playmates— Rain — A  fine  sunrise — 
The  disiiuit  pond— A  call  to  breakfast — Preliminary  operations— Jer- 
ry's uncombed  head — Oicar's  neatne&s — Jerry  sent  from  the  table — 
Bad  manners— Bathing  in  ihe  pond— An  anticipated  pleasure  inter- 
dicted—The river — A  walk — The  pond — Map  of  Biookdale — Going 
to  ride— The  Cross-Roads — Billy's  spetd  discussed — The  variety  store 
— All  sorts  of  things — Oscar's  purchase— Returning  home — Short 
evenings — A  nap — A  queer  dream — Oscar's  smartness  at  dreaming — 
Making  fun  of  a  country  store— Jlary's  question — Crying  babies — 
Teasing— Walking  backwards— A  trip  and  a  fall — A  real  crying 
'laby — Mary  comforted — Jerry  cufled — Mortitication 204 


CHAPTER   XYI. 

IN    THE    \srOODS. 

Forgotten  medicine  and  renewed  health— An  excursion  planned — A 
gun  wanted,  but  denied — Setting  out  on  a  long  tramp — Swamps — 
Upland — Brooks— How  Brookdale  got  its  name — Cutting  canes — 
Birch  and  beech— How  to  crook  the  handle  of  a  cane— The  philoso- 
phy of  it  explained— The  cigars— Fine  groves — Stopping  to  rest — The 
forest  described- Birds  and  guns— Other  game — Jim  Oakley's  strange 
animal— Moose — The  man  who  met  a  bear — A  race — Mysterious  dis- 
appearance of  tlie  bear — The  probable  cause  of  his  visit — The  boy 
who  killed  two  bears — Oscar's  courage— Prospect  Rock — A  fine  view 
— The  rabbit — The  woodchuck's  hole — Crossing  a  swamj) — Mos- 
quitos— The  pond — The  hermit's  hut — Some  account  of  "Old 
Staples'" — Buried  treasures — Making  a  fire — Baking  potatoes  and 
toasting  cheese — Drinking  pond  water — Dinner — Hunting  for  the 
hermit's  money — What  they  meant  to  do  with  it — A  bath  proposed — 
Smoothing  over  the  matter — Going  into  water — Drying  their  hair — 
Going  home — Lost  in  the  woods — Arrival  home — One  kind  of  pun- 
ishment for  wrong-doing 


XU  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVir. 

CLINTON. 

PAGE 

The  missing  cap — Splitting  wood — Jeiry  and  Emily — A  quarrel  begun 
— Tlie  eip  found — A  drinlc  of  butlemiilk — Oscar's  opinion  of  it — 
Jerry's  love  for  it — Another  delay — Feeding  the  fowls — A  mysterious 
letier— Tlie  Shanghae  rooster's  cumplaiiit— Curiosity  excited — The  sus- 
pected author — Clinton's  education — Keeping  dark  about  the  letter — 
Who  Cliiitun  was— Where  he  lived — Killing  caterpillars — How  cater- 
pillars breed— The  young  turkeys — The  brood  of  chickens — The  hen- 
coop— Clinton's  management  of  the  poultry — His  profits — Success 
the  result  of  efifort,  not  of  luck — The  "  rooster's  letter"  not  alluded 
to — The  piggery — The  barn— "The  horse's  prayer" — A  new-comer 
— Her  name — A  discovery — Relationship  of  Clinton  to  Whistler- 
Mrs.  Davenport— Oscar  conceals  his  dislike  of  Whistler— The  shop — 
Specimens  of  Clinton's  work — Going  home 238 

CHAPTER   XVHI. 

THE     LETTER. 

A.  forgotten  duty  called  to  mind — Letter  writing — A  mysterious  allu- 
sion— The  private  room — No  backing  out — Making  a  beginning — Get- 
ting stuck — Idling  away  time — Prying  into  letters — A  commotion 
among  the  swallows — Teaching  the  young  ones  how  to  fly — A  good 
lesson  lost — iMary  and  her  book — Her  talk  about  the  pictures — A 
pretty  picture^A  wasted  hour — Making  another  attempt — His  suc- 
cess— Effecls  of  being  in  earnest — A  copy  of  Oscar's  letter — Emily's 
inquisiliveness^A  rebuke- The  message  she  wanted  to  send — The 
meadow  lot — Mtik-hingfor  trees — Going  to  the  old  wood  lot — Cutting 
birch  twigs — Forgetting  to  be  lazy — The  load — A  ride  to  the  Cross- 
Roads — Mailing  tlie  letter — Paying  the  postage  in  advance 254 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE     RECALL. 

Hankerings  after  a  gun — A  plan— Jim  Oakley's  gun — A  dispute — An 
open  rupture — The  broken  gun— Going  home  mad— A  call  from 
Clinton — The  letter — Summons  home — Disappointment — Bad  feeling 
between  Oscar  and  Jerry — How  they  slept — Remarks  about  their  ap- 


CONTENTS.  XUl 

PAGB 

pearance  at  the  breakfast  table— Borrowing  trouble — Another  visit 
proposed— Jerry's  explosion  of  anger — His  imprudence— Confinement 
down  cellar — An  unhappy  day — "  Making  up"  at  night — A  duty  neg- 
lected— Inquiries  about  the  gun — Starting  for  home — A  pleasant 
drive — The  stage-coach — The  cars — Luncheon — Half  an  hour  in  Port- 
land— The  Boston  train — A  spark  in  the  eye — Pain  and  inflammation 
— Boston — Ralph's  surprise — Welcome  home — The  eye-stone — The 
intruder  removed 270 


CHAPTER  XX. 

DOWNWARD    PROGRESS. 

Oscar's  dread  of  going  to  school— Unsuccessful  pleas— Oscar  at  school 
— His  indiflFerence  to  his  studies — A  "talent  for  missing" — A  reproof 
— Kicking  a  cap — Whistler's  generosity — Benny  Wright — Oscar's 
bad  conduct — Regarded  as  incorrigible— The  tobacco  spittle — Os- 
car's denial— Betrayed  by  his  breath — A  successful  search— The 
teacher's  rebuke— The  new  copy — Its  effect — A  note  for  Oscar's  futher 

■  — What  it  led  to — Concealment  of  real  feelings — Bridget's  complaint 
— The  puddle  on  the  kitchen  floor — Oscar's  story— Conflicting  reports 
— A  new  flare-up— The  truth  of  the  matter — Bridget's  departure — 
Examination  day — The  medals— The  certificate  for  the  High  School 
—A  refusal— Bitter  fruits  of  misconduct 2S4 


■      CHAPTER   XXI. 

NEDMIXER. 

Vacation  — Associates  — Edward  Mixer  — His  character  — Loitering 
around  railroad  depots — An  excursion  into  the  country — The  railroad 
bridge — Fruit — A  fine  garden— Getting  over  the  fence — Looking  for 
birds'  nests— Disappearance  of  Edward  and  Alfred — A  chase — Es- 
cape of  the  boys — Hailing  each  other — Edward's  account  of  the  ad- 
venture— A  grand  speculation — Pluck — Secrecy— Curiosity  not  grati- 
fied— Arrival  of  Oscar's  uncle — The  ofllcer's  interview  with  Mr,  Pres- 
ton— The  real  character  and  history  of  Ned — Timely  warning — Os- 
car's astonishment — What  he  knew  concerning  Ned— A  hint  about 
forming  new  acquaintances — Oscar's  removal  from  city  temptations 
decided  on — A  caution  and  precaution — Departure— Ned's  arrest  and 
sentence— The  "  grand  speculation"  never  divulged 300 


lUustratiun^. 


Page 
Winter  Scene  on  Boston  Common frontispiece 

Vignette Title-page 

Playing   Schoolmaster 27 

The  Assault 39 

Bright  and  HER  Family ■ 56 

Thanksgiving  Market   Scene 89 

Tiger's  Countenance ^ 114 

The  Overturn 141 

Afloat  on  the  Ice 1C3 

A  Q.UEER  Name 187 

The  Double  Face 137 

The  Cat-erect 183 

Map  of  Brookdale 211 

The  Dinner  in  the  "Woods 233 

Mary  and  the  Picture-Book 261 

The  Stage-Coach 280 

Hunting  for  Birds'  Nests 304 


OSCAR. 


CHAPTER    1. 


A      KITCHEN      SCENE 


"pRIDGET,  the  Irish  servant  girl,  had  finished  the 
house-work  for  the  day,  and  sat  down  to  do  a  little 
mending  with  her  needle.  The  fire  in  the  range,  which 
for  houi-s  had  sent  forth  such  scorching  blasts,  was  now 
burning  dim  ;  for-  it  was  early  in  October,  and  the 
weather  was  mild  and  pleasant.  The  floor  was  swept, 
and  the  various  articles  belonging  in  the  room  were  ar- 
ranged in  their  proper  places,  for  the  night.  The  mis- 
tress of  the  kitchen, — for  Bridget  claimed  this  as  her 
rank,  if  not  her  title, — was  humming  a  queer  medley 


16  NOISYBOYS. 

of  tunes  known  only  to  herself,  as  lier  clumsy  fingers 
were  trying  to  coax  tlie  needle  to  perform  some  dex- 
trous feat  that  it  did  not  seem  inclined  to  do  in  her 
hands.  What  she  was  thinking  about,  is  none  of  our 
business  ;  but  whatever  it  was,  her  revery  was  suddenly 
disturbed,  and  the  good  nature  that  beamed  from  her 
face  dispelled,  by  the  noisy  clattering  of  more  than  one 
pair  of  little  boots  on  the  stairs.  In  a  moment,  the 
door  opened  with  a  jerk  and  a  push,  and  in  bounded 
three  boys,  with  as  little  d^play  of  manners  or  proprie- 
ty as  so  many  savages  might  exhibit.  The  oldest  di- 
rected his  steps  to  the  closet,  singing,  as  he  peered 
round  among  the  eatables  : 

"Eggs,  cheese,  butter,  bread, — 
Stick,  stock,  stone-dead." 

"  Biddy,"  he  continued,  "  I  'm  hungry — give  me 
something  to  eat,  quick." 

Bridget  paid  no  attention  to  this  demand,  but  only 
twitched  her  needle  with  a  httle  more  energy. 

"  I  say,  Biddy,"  continued  the  boy,  "  what  did  you 
have  for  supper  ?  Come,  give  me  some,  I  'm  half 
starved." 


AN     ATTRACTION.  17 

"And  why  did  n't  ye  come  when  tlie  supper  was 
ready,  if  ye  wanted  any  ?"  said  Bridget.  "  If  ye  won't 
ate  with  the  rest,  it 's  not  me  that  will  wait  upon  ye, 
Master  Oscar." 

"  Well,"  continued  Oscar,  "  if  you  won't  help  me,  I 
guess  I  can  help  myself.  Ralph,  what  did  you  have 
for  supper  ?" 

The  boy  addressed  named  over  several  articles,  among 
which  were  cake  and  mince-pie,  neither  of  which  could 
Oscar  find  in  the  closet. 

"  Where  did  you  put  the  pie,  Biddy  ?"  he  inquired. 

"It  's  where  ye  won't  find  it,"  replied  Bridget, 
"  that  's  jist  where  it  is." 

"  I  bet  I  v)ill  find  it,  come  now,"  said  Oscar,  with  a 
determined  air ;  and  he  commenced  the  search  in  ear- 
nest, prying  into  every  covered  dish,  opening  every 
drawer  and  bucket,  and  overhauling  and  disarranging 
every  part  of  the  closet.  Bridget  was  just  then  in  too 
irritable  a  mood  to  bear  this  provoking  invasion  of  her 
realm  with  patience.  In  an  angry  tone,  she  ordered 
the  intruder  to  leave  the  closet,  but  he  took  no  notice 
of  the  command.     She  repeated  the  order,  making  it 

more  emphatic  by  calling  him  a  "  plague"  and  a  "  tor- 
2* 


18  IRREGULAR      HABITS. 

ment,"  but  he  did  not  heed  it.  Then  she  threatened  to 
tell  his  parents  of  his  misconduct,  but  this  had  no  ef- 
fect. Oscar  continued  his  search  for  some  minutes,  but 
without  success ;  and  he  finally  concluded  to  make  his 
supper  of  bread  and  butter,  since  he  could  find  nothing- 
more  tempting  to  his  appetite. 

The  fact  was,  Oscar  was  getting*  in  the  habit  of  being 
absent  from  his  meals,  and  calling  for  food  at  unseason- 
able hours,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  Bridget.  She 
had  complained  of  this  to  his  mother  several  times, 
without  effect ;  and  now  she  thought  she  would  try  a 
little  expedient  of  her  own.  So,  when  she  cleared  away 
the  supper-table  that  evening,  before  Oscar  came  home, 
she  hid  away  the  cake  and  pies  with  wh'ch  the  others 
had  been  served,  and  left  only  bread  and  butter  in  the 
closet.  She  gained  her  end,  but  the  boy,  in  rummag- 
ing for  the  hidden  articles,  had  made  her  half  an  hour's 
extra  work,  in  putting  things  to  rights  again. 

As  Oscar  stepped  out  of  the  closet,  after  his  solitary 
supper,  he  moved  towards  the  youngest  of  the  other 
boys,  saying  : 

"  Here,  George,  open  your  mouth  and  shut  your 
eyes,  and  I  '11  give  you  something  to  make  you  wise." 


HECTORING.  19 

0 

George  declined  the  gift,  but  Oscar  insisted,  and  tried 
to  force  it  upon  him.  A  struggle  ensued,  and  both 
rolled  upon  the  floor,  the  one  crying  and  screaming 
with  anger,  and  the  other  laughing  as  though  he  consid- 
ered it  good  fun.  George  shut  his  teeth  firmly  togeth 
er,  but  Oscar  succeeded  in  rubbing  enough  of  the  mys- 
terious article  upon  his  lips  to  enable  him  to  tell  what 
it  was.  It  proved  to  be  a  ^^iece  of  pepper,  a  plate  of 
which  Oscar  had  found  in  the  closet. 

This  little  experiment,  however,  did  not  leave  George 
in  a  very  pleasant  frame  of  mind.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  got  over  his  blubbering  and  pouting.  Oscar 
called  him  a  "cry-baby,"  for  making  such  a  fuss  about 
a  little  bit  of  pepper,  which  epithet  did  not  aid  him 
j  much  in  forgetting  the  injury  he  had  received. 

After  awhile,  quiet  and  harmony  were  in  a  measu/e 
restored.  Ralph  and  George  got  their  school-books, 
and  began  to  look  over  the  lessons  they  were  to  recite 
in  the  morning  ;  but  Oscar  not  only  remained  idle, 
himself,  but  seemed  to  try  to  interrupt  them  as  much 
as  possible,  by  his  remarks.  By-and-bye,  finding  they 
did  not  take  much  notice  of  his  observations,  he  took 
from  his  jacket  pocket  a  small  tin  tube,  and  commenced 


20  SHOOTING      PEAS. 

blowing  peas  throngli  it,  aiming  them  at  his  brothers, 
at  Bridget,  and  at  the  lamp.  Ralph,  after  two  or 
three  had  taken  effect  on  his  face,  got  up  in  a  pet,  and 
took  his  book  up  stairs  to  the  sitting-room.  George 
scowled  and  scolded,  as  the  annoying  pellets  flew  around 
his  head,  but  he  did  not  mean  to  be  driven  away  by 
such  small  shot.  Bridget,  too,  soon  lost  her  patience, 
as  the  peas  i-attled  upon  the  newlj^-swept  floor. 

"  Git  away  with  yer  pays,  Oscar,"  said  she ;  "  don't 
ye  be  cluttei-in'  up  the  clane  floor  with  'em,  that 's  a 
good  b'y.'' 

"  They  aint  '  pays,'  they  are  peas,''^  replied  Oscar ; 
"  can't  you  say  peas,  Biddy  ?" 

"  I  don't  care  what  ye  call  'em,"  said  Bridget ;  "  only 
kape    the  things  in  yer  pocket,  and  don't  bother  me  , 
with  'em." 

"Who's  bothering  you?"  said  Oscar;  "the 'pays' 
don't  make  any  dii't — they  're  just  as  clean  as  your  floor." 

"  Ye  're  a  sassy  b'y,  that  's  jist  what  ye  are." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"  Faith,  if  it  was  me  that  had  the  doin'  of  it,  I  "bet 
1  'd  lam  ye  better  manners,  ye  great,  impudent  g*ood- 
for-not!iin',  if  J  had  to  bate  yer  tin  times  a  day." 


COMPLAINTS.  21 

"  You  would  n't,  though,  would  you  ?"  said  Oscar ; 
and  he  continued  the  shower  of  peas  until  he  had  ex- 
hausted his  stock,  and  then  picked  most  of  them  up 
again,  to  serve  for  some  future  occasion.  He  had  hard- 
ly finished  this  last  operation,  when  his  mother,  who 
had  been  out,  returned  home.  As  soon  as  she  entered 
the  kitchen,  George  began  to  pour  out  his  complaints 
to  her. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  Oscar  's  been  plaguing  us  like 
everything,  all  the  evening.  He  got  me  down  on  the 
floor,  and  rubbed  a  hot  pepper  on  my  mouth,  and  tried 
to  make  me  eat  it.  And  he  's  been  rummaging  all 
round  the  kitchen,  trying  tO  find  some  pie.  And  then 
he  went  to  shooting  peas  at  us,  and  he  got  Bridget  real 
mad,  and  Ralph  had  to  clear  out,  to  study  his  lesson. 
I  told  him—" 

"  There,  there,  George,  that  wijl  do,"  replied  his 
mother  ;  "I  am  sick -of  hearing  these  complaints.  Os- 
car, why  is  it  that  I  can't  stir  out  of  the  house,  when  you 
are  at  home,  without  your  making  trouble  with  Bridge 
or  tjie  children  ?  I  do  wish  you  would  try  to  behave 
yoursetf  properly.  You  ai-e  getting  the  ill-will  of  every- 
body in  the  house,  by  your  bad  conduct.    "I  really  be- 


22  TALE-TELLING. 

lieve  your  brothers  and  sisters  will  begin  to  hate  you, 
before  long,  if  you  keep  on  in  this  way.  For  your  own 
sake,  if  for  nothing  more,  I  should  think  you  would  try 
to  do  better.  If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  try  to 
keep  on  good  terms  with  my  brothers  and  sisters,  if  I 
quarrelled  with  everybody  else." 

Oscar  made  no  reply  to  this,  and  the  subject  was 
soon  dropped.  His  mother  was  too  much  accustomed 
to  such  complaints  of  his  misconduct,  to  think  very 
seriously  of  them ;  and  he  was  himself  so  used  to  such 
mild  rebukes  as  the  foregoing,  that  they  made  little  im- 
pression upon  his  mind.  The  boys,  who  all  slept  in 
one  chamber,  soon  retired  for  the  night ;  but  Oscar  took 
no  further  notice  of  the  occurrences  of  the  evening,  ex- 
cept to  apply  the  nickname  of  "mammy's  little  tell- 
tale "  to  George — a  title  of  contempt  by  which  he  often 
addressed  his  little  brother. 

I  am  afraid  that  the  title  of  "  tell-tale  "  was  not  whol-' 
ly  undeserved  by  George.  True,  he  often  had  just 
cause  of  complaint ;  but  he  was  too  ready  to  bring 
whining  accusations  against  his  brothers  and  sisters,  for 
every  t]-iliing  thing.     He  complained  so  much  that  his 

mother   could  not  always   tell  when  censure  was  de- 

I 


THE      FAMILY.  23 

served.  It  had  become  a  habit  with  him,  and  a  dozen 
times  a  day  he  would  go  to  her,  with  the  complaint 
that  Oscar  had  been  plaguing  him,  or  Ella  had  got 
something  that  belonged  to  him,  or  Ralph  would  not 
do  this  or  that. 

George,  who  was  the  youngest  of  the  children,  was 
at  this  time  seven  years  old ;  Ralph  was  tvTO  years  and 
a  half  old'er,  and  Oscar,  who  was  the  oldest  son,  was 
about  half  way  between  thirteen  and  fourteen.  They 
had  two  sisters.  Alice,  the  oldest,  was  fifteen  years  of 
age,  and  Eleanor,  or  Ella,  as  she  was  commonly  called, 
was  about  eleven. 

The  father  of  these  boys  and  girls  was  a  shop-keeper 
in  Boston.  His  business  required  so  much  of  his  at- 
tention, that  he  was  seldom  with  his  family,  except  at 
meal-times  and  nights.  Even  in  the  evening  he  was 
usually  at  the  shop ;  but  when  it  so  happened  that  he 
could  remain  at  home  after  tea,  it  was  his  delight  to 
settle  himself  comfortably  down  in  the  big  rocking 
chair,  in  the  well-lighted  sitting-room,  and  to  muse  and 
doze,  while  Alice  sang,  and  played  upon  the  piano-forte. 
He  had  so  raany'other  cares,  that  he  did  not  like  to  be 
troubled  with    bad   reports  of  his   children's  conduct. 


24  DOMESTIC      MANAGEMENT. 

This  was  so  well  understood  by  all  the  family,  that 
even  George  seldom  ventured  to  go  to  bim  with  a  com- 
plaint. The  management  of  domestic  affairs  was  thus 
left  almost  entirely  with  Mrs.  Preston,  and  she  consult- 
ed her  husband  in  regard  to  these  matters  only  when 
grave  troubles  arose. 

I  have  thus  briefly  introduced  to  my  readers  the 
family,  one  of  whose  members  is  to  form  the  principal 
subject  of  the  following  pages. 


CHAPTER  IT. 


SCAR      IN      SCHOOL 


rpiIE  school  which  Oscar  attended  was  held  in  a 
large  and  lofty  brick  building,  a  short  distance  from 
the  street  on  which  he  lived.  His  brothers  attended 
the  same  school,  but  his  sisters  did  not,  it  being  only 
for  boys.  The  pupils  numbered  four  or  jSve  hundred — 
a  good  many  boys  to  be  together  in  one  building.  But 
though  belonging  to  one  school,  and  under  the  control 
of  one  head  master,  they  did  not  often  meet  together  in 
one  assembly.  They  were  divided  into  eight  or  ten 
branches,  of  about  fifty  scholars  each,  and  each  branch 
had  its  own  separate  room  and  teacher.  There  were, 
however,  only  four  classes  in  the  whole  school ;  and  a 
this  time  Oscar  was  a  member  of  the  first,  or  highest 
class.  There  was  a  large  hall  in  the  upper  story  of  the 
building,  in  which  the  entire  school  assembled  on  exhi- 


26  A      PLEASANT      SIGHT. 

bition  daj^s,  and  when  tliey  met  for  tlie  practice  of  sing- 
ing or  declamation. 

There  were  hvely  and  merry  times  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  school-honse,  I  can  assure  you,  for  half  an  hour  be- 
fore the  opening  of  school,  and  for  about  the  same 
\ength  of  time  after  the  exercises  closed.  Four  hundred 
Doys  cannot  well  be  brought  together,  without  making 
some  stir.  Every  morning  and  afternoon,  as  the  pupils 
went  to  and  from  school,  the  streets  in  the  neighbor- 
hood would  for  a  few  minutes  seem  to  swarm  with 
boys,  of  every  imaginable  size,  shape,  manners,  dress, 
and  appearance.  Usually,  they  went  back  and  forth  in 
little  knots;  and  with  their  books  and  slates  under  their 
arms,  their  bright,  happy  faces,  their  joyous  laugh,  and 
their  animated  movements,  they  presented  a  most  pleas- 
ing sight, — "  a  sight  for  sore  eyes,"  as  a  Scotchman 
might  say.  If  anybody  disputes  this,  he  must  be  a 
sour  and  crabbed  fellow. 

'  Oscar,  although  not  the  most  prompt  and  punctual 
of  scholars,  used  occasionally  to  go  to  school  in  season 
to  have  a  little  fun  with  his  mates,  before  the  exercises 
commenced.  One  day,  entering  the  school-room  a  little 
-"^ore  the  time,  he  put  on  an  old  coat  which  his  teacher 


PLAYING     SCHOOL-MASl ER. 


27 


wore  in-doors,  stuck  a  quill  behind  his  ear,  and  made  a 
pair  of  spectacles  from  some  pasteboard,  which  he 
perched  upon  his  nose.  Arranged  in  this  fantastical 
manner,  he  seated  himself  with  great  dignity  in  the 
teacher's  chair,  and  began  to  "  play  school-master,"  to 
the  amusement  of  sevei-al  other  boys.     It  so  happen- 


ed that  the  teacher  arrived  earlier  than  usual  that  day, 
and  he  was  not  a  little  amused,  as  he  suddenly  entered 
the  room,  and  witnessed  the  farce  that  was  going  on. 


28  INDOLENCE. 

Oscar  jumped  from  his  seat,  but  the  master  made  him 
take  it  again,  and  remain  in  it  just  as  be  caugbt  bim, 
with  bis  great-coat,  pasteboard  spectacles  and  quill,  un- 
til all  tbe  scholars  bad  assembled,  and  it  was  time  to 
commence  tbe  studies  of  tbe  day.  Tbis  afforded  fine 
sport  to  tbe  otber  boys,  but  Oscar  did  not  mucb  relish 
tbe  fun,  and  be  never  attempted  to  amuse  himself  in 
that  way  again. 

I  am  sorry  that  tbis  harmless  piece  of  roguery  is  not 
the  most  serious  charge  that  candor  obliges  me  to  bring 
against  Oscar.  But  to  tell  tbe  truth,  be  was  not  noted 
either  for  bis  studious  habits  or  bis  correct  deportment ; 
and  there  was  very  bttle  prospect  that  be  would  be 
considered  a  candidate  for  tbe  "Franklin  medals," 
which  were  to  be  distributed  to  the  most  deserving 
members  of  bis  class,  when  they  graduated,  the  ensuing 
July.  And  yet  Oscar  was  naturally  a  bright  and  in- 
telbgent  boy.  He  was  quick  to  learn,  when  be  applied 
himself;  but  be  was  indolent,  and  did  not  like^  to  take 
the  trouble  of  studying  bis  lessons.  Whenever  he 
could  be  made  to  take  hold  of  a  lesson  in  earnest,  he 
soon  mastered  it;  but  the  consciousness  of  this  power 
often  led  him  to  put  off  his  lessons  to  tbe  last  minute, 


THE      BLACKBOARD.  )iW, 

and  then  perhaps  something  would  happen  to  prevent 
his  preparing  himself  at  all. 

A  day  or  two  after  the  "kitchen  scene"  described  in 
the  preceding  chapter,  Oscar  was  sitting  at  his  desk  in 
the  school-room,  with  an  open  book  before  him,  but 
with  his  eyes  idly  staring  at  a  blackboard  affixed  to  one 
of  the  walls.  The  teacher  watched  him  a  moment,  and 
then  spoke  to  him. 

"  Oscar,"  he  said,  "  what  do  you  find  so  very  fascinat- 
ing about  that  blackboard  ?  You  have  been  looking  at 
it  very  intently  for  several  minutes — what  do  you  see 
that  interests  you  so  ?" 

Oscar  hung  his  head,  but  made  no  repl}^ 

"  Are  you  ready  to  recite  your  geography  lesson  ?" 
continued  the  master. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Why  do  you  not  study  it,  then  ?"    * 

"  I  don't  feel  like  studying,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  teacher,  quite  pleasantly ;  "  if 
you  don't  feel  like  it,  you  need  n't  study.  You  may 
come  here." 

Oscar  stepped  out  to  the  platform  on  which  the 
teacher's  desk  was  placed. 


30  A     TEDIOUS      AMUSEMENT. 

"ITiere,"  continued  the  master,  pointing  to  a  black- 
board facing  the  school,  "you  may  stand  there  and 
look  at  that  board  just  as  long  as  you  please.  But  you 
must  not  look  at  anything  else,  and  I  would  advise  you 
not  to  let  me  catch  your  eyes  turning  either  to  the 
right  or  the  left.  Now  mind  and  keep  your  eyes  on 
the  board,  and  when  you  feel  like  studying  let  me 
know." 

Oscar  took  the  position  pointed  out  to  him,  with  his 
back  towards  the  boys,  and  with  his  ftice  so  near  the 
blackboard,  that  he  could  see  nothing  else  without  turn- 
ing his  head — an  operation  that  would  be  sure  to  at- 
tract the  attention  of  the  master.  At  first  he  thought 
it  would  be  good  fun  to  stand  there,  and  for  awhile  the 
novelty  of  the  thing  did  amuse  him  a  little.  When  he 
began  to  grow  weary,  he  contrived  to  interest  himself 
by  tracing  out  the  faint  chalk-marks  of  long-forgotten 
problems,  that  had  not  been  entirely  obliterated  from 
the  blackboard.  This  afforded  employment  for  his 
mind  for  a  time ;  but  byand-bye  he  began  to  grow  tired 
and  uneasy.  His  eyes  longed  to  see  something  else, 
and  his  legs  were  weary  of  standing  so  long  in  one 
position.     He  wondered,  too,  whether   the   boys  were 


THE      GEOGRAPHY     LESSON.  31 

'boking  at  him,  and  whether  they  smiled  at  his  strange 
employment.  At  last,  after  doing  penance  about  an 
hour,  his  exhaustion  got  the  better  of  his  stubbornness, 
and  on  informing  the  master  that  he  thought  he  could 
study  now,  he  was  permitted  to  take  his  seat. 

After  returning  to  his  desk,  Oscar  had  but  little  time 
to  finish  learning  his  geography  lesson,  before  the  class 
was  called  out  to  recite.  As  was  too  often  the  case,  he 
was  but  half  prepared.  The  subject  of  the  lesson  was 
New  York  State.  Several  of  the  questions  put  to  Os- 
car were  answered  wrong,  either  wholly  or  in  part. 
When  asked  what  great  lakes  bordered  on  New  York, 
he  replied : 

"  Lake  Erie  and  Lake  Superior." 

When  the  question  was  given  to  another,  and  coi 
rectly  answered,  Oscar  exclaimed  : 

"  That  !s  what  I  meant — Erie  and  Ontario ;  but  I 
was  n't  thinking  what  I  said." 

This  was  somewhat  of  a  habit  with  Oscar.     When 
e  "missed"  a  question,  he  was  very  apt  to  say,  after 
the  next  boy  had  answered  it,  "  I  knew,  only  I  could  n't 
think ;"  or,  "I  was  just  going  to  say  so." 

Another  question  put  to  him  was,  whether  the  water 


82  A      SINGULAR      MISTAKE. 

of  the  great  New  York  lakes  was  fresh  or  salt.  Oscar 
replied  that  it  was  salt.  It  is  but  justice  to  add,  how 
ever,  that  nothing  was  said  in  the  lesson  of  the  da}'",  on 
this  point,  although  the  question  had  occurred  in  a  pre- 
vious lesson.  Noticing  that  several  of  the  boys  laughed 
at  Oscar's  blunder,  the  teacher  remarked : 

"  That  was  a  yevj  foolish  answer,  Oscar,  but  you  are 
not  the  first  nor  the  wisest  person  that  has  made  the 
same  mistake.  When  the  British  went  to  war  with  us, 
in  1812,  it  is  said  that  all  their  war  vessels  intended  to 
navigate  the  lakes,  were  furnished  with  tanks  and  casks 
for  carrying  a  full  supply  of  fresh  water;  and  I  have 
been  told  that  an  apparatus  is  still  in  existence  in  one 
of  the  Canadian  navy. yards,  which  the  English  govern- 
ment sent  over,  some  years  ago,  for  distilling  fresh  wa- 
ter from  Lake  Erie.  But  an  American  school-boy  of 
your  age  ought  to  know  better  than  this,  if  an  English 
lord  of  the  admiralty  does  not.  These  great  lakes  are 
among  the  remarkable  features  of  our  own  country,  and 
every  American  child  should  know  something  about 
them.  I  should  suppose,"  continued  the  teacher,  "  that 
a  boy  who  could  afford  to  look  steadily  at  nothing  for 
an  hour,  might  take  a  little  pains  to  inform  himself 


I 


ANOTHER      BLUNDER.  33 

about  so  common  a  matter  as  this,  so  as  not  to  appear 
so  ridiculous,  when  a  simple  question  is  asked  him." 

Before  the  lesson  was  concluded,  Oscar  made  still  an- 
other mistake.  There  was  an  allusion  in  the  lesson  to 
the  great  fire  of  1835,  by  which  an  immense  amount 
of  property  in  New  York  city  was  destroyed.  "When 
the  teacher  asked  him  how  many  buildings  were  said 
to  have  been  consumed,  he  rephed : 

"  Three  hundred  and  fifty — five  hundred  and  thirty 
— no,  three  hundred  and  fifty." 

"Which  number  do  you  mean?"  inquired  the  mas- 
ter. 

"I  aint  sure  which  it  is,"  replied  Oscar,  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  ;  "  it 's  one  or  the  other,  I  don't  know 
which." 

"  You  are  about  as  definite,"  said  the  teacher,  "  as  the 

Irish  recruit,  who  said  his  height  was^five  feet  ten  or 

v.ten  feet  five,  he  was  n't  certain  which.     But  are  you 

sure  that    the  number  of  buildings   burnt  was  either 

three  hundred  and  fifty,  or  five  hundred  and  thirty  ?" 

"  Why— yes — I — believe — it  was  one  or  the  other," 
replied  Oscar,  hesitatingly. 

"  You  believe  it  was,  do  you  ?     Well,  I  beheve  you 


84  DETAINED     AFTER      SCHOOL. 

know  just  notliing  about  the  lesson.  You  may  go  to 
your  seat,  and  study  it  until  you  can  answer  every 
question ;  and  after  scliool  I  will  liear  you  recite  it ; 
and  remember,  you  will  not  go  home  nntil  yon  can  re- 
cite it." 

The  class  continued  their  recitation,  and  Oscar  re- 
turned to  his  seat,  and  commenced  studying  the  lesson 
anew.  It  was  already  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  he 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  stopping  after  school,  he  gave 
pretty  close  attention  to  his  book  during  the  rest  of  the 
session.  About  fifteen  minutes  after  the  school  was  dis- 
missed, he  told  the  teacher  he  was  prepared  to  recite, 
and  he  succeeded  in  getting  through  the  lesson  with 
tolerable  accuracy.  When  he  had  finished,  the  teacher 
talked  vrith  him  ver}-  plainly  about  his  indolent  habits 
in  school,  and  the  consequences  that  would  hereafter 
result  from  them. 

"  I  would  advise  you,"  he  said,  "  to  do  one  of  two 
things, — either  commit  your  lessons  perfectly,  hereafter, 
or  else  give  up  study  entirely,  and  ask  your  father  to 
take  you  from  school  and  put  you  to  some  business. 
You  can  learn  as  fast  as  any  boy  in  school,  if  you  will 
only  give  your  attention  to  it ;  but  I  despise  this  half- 


■« 


GOOD      ADVI CE. 


35 


way  system  that  you  have  fallen  into.  It  is  only  wast- 
ing time  to  half  learn  a  thing,  as  you  did  your  geogra- 
phy lesson  this  afternoon.  You  studied  it  just  enough 
to  get  a  few  indistinct  impressions,  and  what  little  you 
did  learn  you  were  not  sure  of.  It  would  be  better  for 
you  to  master  but  one  single  question  a  day,  and  then 
know  that  you  know  it,  than  to  fill  your  head  with  a 
thousand  half-learned,  indefinite,  and  uncertain  ideas. 
I  have  told  you  all  this  before,  but  you  do  not  seem  to 
pay  any  attention  to  it.  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  so,  for 
you  might  easily  stand  at  the  head  of  the  school,  if  you 
would  try." 

Oscar  had  received  such  advice  before,  but,  as  his 
teacher  intimated,  he  had  not  profited  much  by  it.  If 
anything,  he  had  grown  more  indolent  and  negligent, 
within  a  few  months.  On  going  home  that  night, 
Ralph  accosted  him  with  the  inquiry  : 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  blackboard,  Oscar  ? 
Do  you  suppose  you  should  know  it  again,  if  you 
should  happen  to  see  it  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  inquired,  feigning  igno- 
rance. 

"  0,  you  've  forgotten  it  a'ready,  have  you  V  contin- 


36  A     T  n  R  E  A  T  . 

ued  Ralph.  "  You  don't  remember  seeing  an^'tliing  of 
a  blackboard  tliis  afternoon,  do  you?" 

"But  who  told  you  about  it?"  inquired  Oscar;  for 
though  both  attended  the  same  school,  their  places 
were  in  different  rooms. 

"  0,  I  know  what  's  going  on,"  said  Ralph ;  "  you 
need  n't  try  to  be  so  secret  about  it." 

"  Well,  I  know  who  told  you  about  it — 't  was  Bill 
Davenport,  was  n't  it  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

Willie  and  Ralph  were  such  great  cronies,  that  Os- 
car's supposition  was  a  very  natural  one.  Indeed, 
Ralph  could  not  deny  it  without  telling  a  falsehood, 
and  so  he  made  no  reply.  Oscar,  perceiving  he  had 
guessed  right,  added,  in  a  contemptuous  tone : 

"  The  little,  sneaking  tell-tale — I  '11  give  him  a  good 
pounding  for  that,  the  first  time  I  catch  him." 

"  You  're  too  bad,  Oscar,"  interposed  his  brother ; 
"Willie  did  n't  suppose  you  cared  anything  about 
standing  before  the  blackboard — he  only  spoke  of  it 
because  he  thought  it  was  something  queer." 

Seeing  Oscar  was  in  so  unamiable  a  mood,  Ralph 
said  nothing  more  about  the  subject,  at  that  time. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PAYING       OFF      A       GRUDGE. 

rriHE  morning  after  the  events  just  related,  as  Ralph 

was   on  his  way  to  school,  he  fell  in  with  Willie 

Davenport,  or  "Whistler,"  as  he  was  often  sportively 

called  by  his  playmates,  in  allusion  to  his  fondness  for 

a  species  of  music  to  which  most  boys  are  more  or  less 

addicted.     And  I  may  as  well  say  here,  that  he  was  a 

very  good  whistler,  and  came  honestly  by  the  title  by 

which  he  was  distinguished  among  his  fellows.     His 

quick  ear  caught  all  the  new  and  popular  melodies  of 

the  day,  before  they  -became  threadbare,  which   gave 

his  whistling  an  air  of  freshness  and  novelty  that  few 

could  rival.     It  was  to  this  circumstance — the  quality 

of  his  whistling,  rather  than  the  quantity — that  he  was 

chiefly  indebted  for  the  name  of  Whistler.    Nor  was  he 

ashamed  of  his  nickname,  as  he  certainly  had  no  need 
4 


38  WHISTLER. 

to  be ;  for  it  was   not  applied  to  liira  in  derision,  but 
playfully  and  good-naturedly. 

Whistler  and  Ralph  were  good  friends.  There  was 
a  difference  of  between  two  and  three  years  in  their 
ages,  Whistler  being  about  twelve  years  old  ;  but  their 
dispositions  harmonized  together  wel^,  and  quite  a 
strong  friendship  had  grown  up  between  them.  A  very' 
different  feeling,  however,  had  for  some  time  existed  be- 
tween Oscar  and  Whistler.  They  were  in  the  same 
class  at  school ;  but  Whistler  studied  hard,  and  thus, 
though  much  younger  than  Oscar,  he  stood  far  before 
him  as  a  scholar.  This  awakened  some  feeling  of  re- 
sentment  in  Oscar,  and  he  never  let  slip  any  oppoituni- 
ty  for  annoying  or  mortifying  his  more  industrious  and 
successful  class-mate. 

On  their  way  to  school,  on  the  morning  in  question, 
Ralj^h  told  Whistler  of  Oscar's  threat,  and  advised  him 
to  avoid  his  brother  as  much  as  possible,  for  a  day  or 
two,  until  the  affair  of  the  blackboard  should  pass  from 
his  mind.  Whistler  heeded  this  caution,  and  was  care- 
ful not  to  put  himself  in  the  way  of  his  enemy.  He 
succeeded  in  eluding  him  through  the  day,  and  was  on 
his  way  home  from  school  in  the  afternoon,  when  Os- 


THE      ASSAULT. 


39 


car,  who  he  tlioiight  had  gone  off  in  another  direction, 
suddenly  appeared  at  his  side. 

''*  You  little  tell-tale,  you,"  cried  Oscar,  "  what  did 
you  tell  Kalph  about  the  blackboard  for  ?  I  '11  learn 
you  to  mind  your 
own  business,  next 
time,  you  mean, 
sneaking  meddler. 
Take  that— and  '" 
that,"  he  contin-  § 
ued,  giving  Whis- 
tler several  hard 
blows  with  his 
fist.  The  latter  at- 
tempted to  dodge 
the  blows,  but  did 
not  return  them, 
for  this  he  knew 
would  only  increase  the  anger  of  Oscar,  who  was  so 
much  his  superior  in  size  and  strength,  as  well  as  in 
the  art  of  fisticuffs,  that  he  could  do  just  about  as  he 
pleased  with  him.  The  afi'ray,  however,  was  soon 
brought  'to  an  unexpected  end,  by  a  gentleman  who 


40  whistler's    bravery. 

happened  to  witness  it.     Seizing  Oscar  by  the  collai-  of 
his  jacket,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Here,  here,  sir !  what  are  you  doing  to  that  little 
fellow  ?  Don't  you  know  enough,  you  great  lubber, 
to  take  a  boy  of  your  own  size,  if  you  want  to  fight  ? 
Now  run,  my  little  man,  and  get  out  of  his  way,"  con- 
tinued the  stranger,  turning  to  Whistler,  and  still  hold- 
ing Oscar  by  the  collar. 

Whistler  hesitated  for  a  moment  between  the  con- 
tending impulses  of  obedience  and  manliness  ;  and 
then,  drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  stature,  he  said, 
with  a  respectful  but  decided  air : 

"  No,  sir,  I  have  n't  injured  him,  and  I  won't  run 
away  from  him." 

"  Well  said,  well  said — you  are  a  brave  little  fellow," 
continued  the  gentleman,  somewhat  surprised  at  the 
turn  the  affiiir  was  taking.    "  AVhat  is  your  name,  sir  ?" 

"  William  Davenport." 

"  And  what  is  this  boy's  name  ?" 

"  Oscar,"  replied  Willie,  and  there  he  stopped,  as  if 
unwilling  to  expose  further  the  name  of  his  abuser. 

"  Well,  you  may  go  now,  Oscar,"  said  the  gentle- 


REPORTS.  41 

man,  re'linquisliing  his  bold  ;  "  but  if  you  lay  your 
bands  on  William  again,  I  shall  complain  of  you/' 

The  two  boys  walked  off  in  opposite  directions,  the 
gentleman  keeping  an  eye  upon  Oscar  until  Whistler 
was  out  of  his  reach. 

A  little  knot  of  boys  was  drawn  together  by  the  cir- 
cumstance just  related,  among  whom  was  George,  Os- 
car's youngest  brother.  He  witn«essed  the  attack,  but 
knew  nothing  of  its  cause.  As  he  went  directly  home, 
while  Oscar  did  not,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  report 
to  his  mother  and  Ralph  the  scene  he  had  just  beheld. 
Ralph  now  related  to  his  mother  the  incident  of  the 
preceding  day,  which  led  to  the  assault;  for,  seeing  Os- 
car's unwillingness  to  have  anything  said  about  it,  he 
had  not  mentioned  the  matter  to  any  one  at  home. 
Ralph  was  a  generous-hearted  boy,  and  in  this  case  was 
actuated  by  a  regard  for  Oscar's  feelings,  rather  than 
by  fear. 

Oscar  did  not  come  home  that  night  until  after  dark. 

As  he  entered  the  sitting-room,  Alice,  who  was  seated 

at  the  piano-forte,  broke  short  off  the  piece  she  was 

playing,  and  said,  looking  at  him  as  sternly  as  she  could, 

"  You  great  ugly  boy  !" 
4* 


42  AREBUKE. 

"  Why,  what  's  the  matter  now  ?"  inquired  Oscar, 
who  hardly  knew  whether  this  rougli  sakitation  was 
designed  to  be  in  fun  or  in  earnest ;  "  don't  I  look  as 
well  as  usual  ?" 

"You  looked  well  beating  little  Willie  Davenport, 
don't  you  think  you  did  ?"  continued  his  sister^  with 
the  same  stern  look.  "  I  'm  perfectly  ashamed  of  you 
— I  declare,  I  did  n't  know  you  could  do  such  a  mean 
thino-  as  that." 

o 

"  I  don't  care,"  replied  Oscar,  "  I  '11  lick  him  again, 
if  he  does  n't  mind  his  own  business." 

As  Oscar  did  not  know  that  George  witnessed  the 
assault,  he  was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  Alice  heard  of  it. 
She  refused  to  tell  hira,  and  he  finally  concluded  that 
Whistler  or  his  mother  must  have  called  there,  to  enter 
a  complaint  against  him.  Pretty  soon  Mrs.  Preston 
entered  the  room,  and  sat  down,  to  await  the  arrival  of 
Oscar's  father  to  tea.  She  at  once  introduced  the  topic 
which  was  uppermost  in  her  mind,  by  the  inquiry  : 

"  Oscar,  what  is  the  trouble  between  you  and  WilKe 
Davenport  ?" 

"  Why,"  replied  Oscar,  "  he  's  been  telling  stories 
about  me." 


MISREPRESENTATION.  43 

"  Do  you  mean  false  stories  ?" 

"Yes — no — not  exactly  false,  but  it  was  n't  true, 
neither." 

"  It  must  have  been  a  singular  story,  to  have  been 
neither  false  nor  true.  And  as  it  appears  there  was  but 
one  story,  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  was." 

"  He  told  Ralph  I  had  to  stand  up  and  look  at  a 
blackboard  an  hour." 

"  Was  that  false  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Oscar,  for  in  replying  to  bis  mother,  of 
late,  he  had  usually  omitted  the  "ma'am"  (madam) 
which  no  well-bred  boy  will  fail  to  place  after  the  yes  or 
no  addressed  to  a  mother ;  "yes,  it  was  a  lie,  for  I  need 
n't  have  stood  there  five  minutes,  if  I  had  n't  wanted  to." 

"  Did  you  stand  before  the  blackboard  because  you 
wanted  to,  or  was  it  intended  as  a  punishment  for  not 
attending  to  your  lesson?" 

"  Why,  I  suppose  it  was  meant  for  a  punishment, 
but  the  master  told  me  I  might  go  to  my  seat,  Avhen- 
ever  I  wanted  to  study." 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  *'  after  all  your  quibbling, 
I  don't  see  that  Willie  told  any  falsehood.  And,  in 
fact,  I  don't  believe  he  had  any  idea  of  injuring  you, 


44  FORGIVING     ENEMIES. 

when  be  told  Ralph  of  the  affair.  He  onl}-  spoke  of  it 
as  a  little  matter  of  news.  But  even  if  he  had  told  a 
lie  about  you,  or  had  related  the  occurrence  out  of  ill- 
will  towards  you,  would  that  be  any  excuse  for  your 
conduct,  in  beating  him  as  jo\i  did  this  afternoon  ?  Do 
you  remember  the  subject  of  your  last  Sabbath-school 
lesson  ?" 

Oscar  could  not  recall  it,  and  shook  his  head  in  the 
negative. 

"I  have  not  forgotten  it,"  continued  his  mother;  "it 
was  on  forgiving  our  enemies,  and  it  is  a  lesson  that 
}'0U  very  much  need  to  learn.  'If  ye  forgive  not  men 
their  trespasses,  neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your 
trespasses,' — that  was  one  of  the  verses  of  the  lesson. 
It  is  noble  to  forgive,  but  it  is  mean  to  retaliate.  You 
must  learn  to  conquer  your  resentful  spirit,  or  you  will 
be  in  trouble  all  the  time.  I  shall  report  this  matter  to 
your  father  when  he  comes.  I  suppose  you  remember 
what  he  promised  you,  when  you  had  your  fight  with 
Sam  Oliver  ?" 

Oscar  remembered  it  very  distinctly.  On  that  occa- 
sion, his  father  reprimanded  him  with  much  seventy, 


THECH  AMBER.  45 

and  assured  him  that  any  repetition  of  the  fault  would 
not  go  unpunished. 

Mr.  Preston  soon  came  in,  and  as  the  family  sat  at 
the  tea-table,  he  was  informed  of  Oscar's  misconduct. 
After  scolding  the  culprit  with  much  sharpness,  for  his 
attack  upon  Willie,  he  concluded  by  ordering  him  imme- 
diately to  bed.  Although  it  yet  lacked  two  hours  of  his 
usual  bed-time,  Oscar  did  not  consider  his  punishment 
very  severe,  but  retired  to  his  chamber,  feeling  delight- 
ed that  he  had  got  off  so  much  easier  than  he  antici- 
pated. Indeed,  so  little  did  he  think  of  his  father's 
command,  that  he  felt  in  no  hurry  to  obey  it.  Instead 
of  going  to  bed,  he  sat  awhile  at  the  window,  listening 
to  the  music  of  a  flute  which  some  one  in  the  neighbor- 
hood was  playing  upon.  Presently  Ralph  and  George, 
who  slept  in  *the  same  chamber  with  him,  came  up  to 
keep  him  company.  They  amused  themselves  together 
for  some  time,  and  Oscar  quite  forgot  that  he  had  been 
sent  to  bed,  until  the  door  suddenly  opened,  and  his 
father,  whose  attention  had  been  attracted  by  the  noise, 
stood  before  him. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  to  go  to  bed  an  hour  ago,  Os- 
car ?"  he  inquired. 


46  ABADSCRAPE. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Why  Lave  n't  you  obeyed  me,  then  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Oscar,  "  I  've  got  a  lesson  to  get  to- 
night, and  I  have  n't  studied  it  yet." 

" If  you  've  got  a  lesson  to  leain,  where  is  your 
book  ?"  inquired  his  father. 

"  It  's  down  stairs ;  I  was  afraid  to  go  after  it,  and  so 
I  was  trying  to  coax  Ralph  to  get  it  for  me." 

"0,  what  a  story!"  cried  George;  "why,  father,  ho 
has  n't  said  one  v/ord  about  his  book." 

This  was  true.  Oscar,  in  his  extremity,  had  hastily 
framed  a  falsehood,  trusting  that  his  assurance  would 
enable  him  to  carry  it  through.  And  he  would  proba- 
bly have  succeeded  but  for  George ;  as  Ralph,  in  his 
well-meant  but  very  mistaken  kindness  for  Oscar,  would 
not  have  been  veiy  likely  to  expose  him.  But  the  lie 
was  nailed,  and  Oscar's  bold  and  wicked  push  had  only 
placed  him  in  a  far  worse  position  than  he  occupied  be- 
fore. His  father,  for  a  moment,  could  scarcely  believe 
his  ears ;  but  this  feeling  of  astonishment  soon  gave 
way  to  a  frown,  before  which  Oscar  cowered  like  a 
sheep  before  a  lion.  Mr.  Preston  was  a  man  of  sti'ong 
passions,  but  of  few  words.     Having  set  forth  briefly 


THEPENALTY.  4/ 

but  in  vivid  colors  the  aggravated  nature  of  Oscar's 
three-fold  offence, — his  attack  upon  Willie,  his  disobe- 
dience when  ordered  to  bed,  and  the  falsehood  with 
which  he  attempted  to  cover  up  his  disobedience, — he 
proceeded  to  inflict  summary  and  severe  chastisement 
upon  the  offender.  It  was  very  rarely  that  he  resorted 
to  this  means  of  discipline,  but  this  he  deemed  a  case 
where  it  was  imperatively  demanded. 

Silence  reigned  in  the  boys'  chamber  the  rest  of  the 
night.  Oscar  was  too  sullen  to  speak ;  Ralph  silently 
pitied  his  brother,  not  less  for  the  sins  into  which  he 
had  fallen  than  for  the  pain  he  had  suilered ;  and 
George  was  too  much  taken  up  with  thinking  about 
the  probable  after-clap  of  this  storm,  to  notice  anything 
else. 

Oscar  was  fond  of  his  bed,  and  was  usually  the  last 
one  of  the  family  to  rise,  especially  in  cool  weather. 
On  the  morning  after  the  occurrences  above  related,  he 
laid  abed  later  than  usual  even  with  him.  His  father 
had  gone  to  the  store,  and  the  children  were  out-doors 
at  play,  before  he  made  his  appeai-ance  at  the  breakfast- 
table.  He  sat  down  to  the  deserted  table,  and  was 
helping  himself  to 'the  cold  remnants  of  the  meal,  when 


48 

his  mother  enteied  the  room.  Oscar  noticed  that  she 
looked  unusually  sad  and  dejected.  After  sitting  in 
silence  a  few  moments,  she  i-emaiked  : 

"You  see  how  I  look,  this  morning,  Oscar.  I  did 
not  sleep  half  an  hour  last  night,  and  now  I  am  not  fit 
to  be  up  from  my  bed — and  all  on  your  account.  I  am 
afraid  your  misconduct  will  be  the  death  of  me,  yet.  T 
used  to  love  to  think  how  much  comfort  I  should  take 
in  you,  when  you  should  grow  up  into  a  tall,  manly 
youth  ;  but  I  have  been  sadly  disappointed,  so  far.  The 
older  you  grow,  the  worse  you  behave,  and  the  more 
trouble  you  make  me.  Do  you  intend  always  to  go  on 
in  this  way  ?" 

Oscar  nervously  spread  the  slice  of  bread  before  him, 
but  made  no  reply.  His  mother  continued  her  re- 
proofs, in  the  same  sad  but  affectionate  tone.  She  ap- 
pealed to  his  sense  of  right,  to  his  gratitude,  and  to  his 
hopes  of  future  success  and  respectability  in  life.  She 
described  the  sad  end  to  which  these  beginnings  of 
wrong-doing  would  inevitably  lead  him,  and  earnestly 
besought  him  to  tiy  to  do  better,  before  his  bad  habits 
should  become  confirmed.  Her  earnest  manner,  and 
her  pale,  haggard  cheeks,  down  which  tears  were  slow- 


# 


STIFLED      EMOTIONS.  49 

ly  stealing,  touched  the  feelings  of  Oscar.  Moisture  be- 
gan to  gather  in  his  eyes,  in  spite  of  himself.  He  tried 
to  appear  very  much  interested  in  the  food  he  was  eat-^ 
ing,  and  to  look  as  though  he  was  indifferent  to  what 
his  mother  was  saying.  And,  in  a  measure,  he  did  suc- 
ceed in  choking  down  those  good  feehngs  which  were 
beginning  to  stir  in  his  heart,  and  which,  mistaken 
boy !  he  thought  it  would  be  unmanly  to  betray. 

Yes,  he  was  mistaken — sadly  mistaken.  Unmanly 
to  be  touched  by  a  mothei's  grief,  and  to  be  moved  by 
a  mother's  tender  entreaties!  Unmanly  to  acknowl- 
edge that  we  have  done  wrong,  or  to  express  sorrow  for 
the  wrong  act !  Unmanly  to  resolve  to  resist  tempta-^ 
tion  in  the  future  !  Where  is  this  monstrous  law  of 
manliness  to  be  found  ?  If  anywhere,  it  must  be  only 
in  the  code  of  pirates  and  desperadoes,  who  have  re- 
nounced all  human  laws  and  ties. 

The  school  hour  was  at  hand,  and  Oscar  was  obliged 
to  start  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  breakfast.  Had 
he  not  stifled  the  better  promptings  of  his  heart,  and 
thus  done  violence  to  his  nature,  he  would  not  have  left 
his  mother  without  assuring  her  that  he  felt  sorry  for 
his  misconduct ;  for  he  did  feel  some  degree  of  regret, 


50  GOODEFFECTS.  . 

althougl  he  was  too  proud  to  acknowledge  it.  His 
mother,  however,  saw  some  tokens  of  feeling  which  he 
could  not  wholly  conceal,  and  she  left  him  with  a  sad 
heart,  but  with  the  hope  that  at  least  some  faint  im- 
pression had  been  made  upon  him. 

And,  indeed,  some  impression  was  made  upon  Os- 
car's heart.  The  feeling  of  sullenness  with  which  he 
awoke,  had  subsided  into  something  resembling  "  low 
spii'its."  Nor  was  this  all  the  eiFect  his  mother's  con- 
versation had  upon  him.  As  he  lay  awake  in  the 
morning,  he  had  planned  the  secret  destruction  of  a 
beautiful  sled  which  had  been  given  to  Geoi-ge,  the  win- 
ter previous,  and  which  was  very  precious  in  the  eyes 
of  the  owner;  but  now  he  relinquished  this  mean  and 
revengeful  design.  Little  George  thus  escaped  the 
dreaded  "  after-clap,"  but  he  never  knew  what  a  blow  it 
would  have  been,  nor  how  near  he  came  to  feeling  its 
full  force. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


THE       HOTEL. 


/^NE  of  Oscar's  most  intimate  companions  was  a  boy 
of  about  his  own  age,  named  Alfred  Walton,  who 
attended  the  same  school  with  him.  Alfred's  father 
was  dead ;  but  be  had  a  step-father,  whom  he  called 
father,  and  with  whom  he  lived.  His  home  was  to  Os- 
car a  very  attractive  one ;  for  it  was  a  public  house, 
and  had  large  stables  and  a  stage-office  attached,  and 
was  usually  full  of  company.  Alfred's  step-father  was 
the  landlord  of  the  hotel,  and  of  course  he  and  his 
young  friends  were  privileged  characters  about  the 
premises.  Oscar  and  Alfred  were  together  a  great  deal 
•of  the  time,  when  out  of  school,  and  quite  a  warm 
friendship  existed  between  them.  On  Wednesday  and 
Saturday  afternoons,  and  during  the  other  play  hours 
of  the  week,  Oscar  might  generally  be  found  about  the 


52  HOTEL     ACQUAINTANCES. 

hotel  premises,  or  riding  on  the  coaches  with  Alfred. 
He  only  regretted  that  he  could  not  stay  there  alto- 
gether; for  he  thought  it  must  be  a  fine  thing  to  live  in 
such  a  place,  where  he  could  do  pretty  much  as  he 
pleased,  without  anybody's  interference.  Such,  at  least, 
seemed  to  be  the  privilege  of  Alfred;  for  everybody, 
from  his  step-father  down  to  the  humblest  servants,  ap- 
peared to  have  too  much  other  business  on  their  hands 
to  give  much  attention  to  his  boyish  movements. 
•  Oscar  made  many  acquaintances  at  the  hotel,  not  a 
few  of  which  were  anything  but  desirable  for  a  boy  of 
his  age  and  character.  He  was  on  chattj'-  terms  with 
all  the  stage-drivers,  hostlers,  and  servants  about  the 
premises,  and  also  got  acquainted  with  many  strangers 
who  stopped  there  for  a  season.  He  was  very  fond  of 
listening  to  the  stories  of  the  drivers  and  other  frequent- 
ers of  the  stage-office,  and  he  would  sit  by  the  hour,  in- 
haling the  smoke  of  theiv  cigars,  admiring  their  long 
yarns,  and  laughing  at  the  jokes  they  cracked.  Much 
of  this  conversation  was  coarse  and  even  vulgar,  such 
as  a  pure  mind  could  not  listen  to  without  suffering 
contamination,  or  at  least  a  blunting  of  its  delicate  sen- 
sibilities.    It  is  a  serious  misfortune  for  a  youth  to  be 


A      QUEER      CHARACTER.  53 

exposed  to  such  influences,  but  Oscar  did  not  kuow  it, 
or  did  not  believe  it. 

Among  the  hangers  about  the  stable,  was  a  queer 
fellow  who  went  by  the  name  of  Andy.  His  real  name 
was  Anderson.  He  was  weak-minded  and  childish,  his 
lack  of  intellect  taking  the  form  of  silliness  rather  than 
of  stupidity.  Indeed,  he  was  bright  and  quick  in  his 
way,  but  it  was  a  very  foolish  and  nonsensical  way. 
He  was  famous  among  all  the  boys  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, for  using  strange  and  amusing  words,  and  espec- 
ially for  a  system  of  spelling  on  which  he  prided  him- 
self, and  which  is  not  laid  down  in  any  of  the  dictiona- 
ries. He  afforded  much  sport  to  the  boys,  who  would 
gather  around  him,  and  give  him  words  by  the  dozen 
to  spell.  The  readiness  and  ingenuity  with  which  he 
would  mis-spell  the  most  simple  words,  was  quite 
amusing  to  them.  He  never  hesitated,  nor  stopped  to 
think,  but  always  spelt  the  given  word  in  his  peculiar 
way,  just  as  promptly  as  though  he  did  it  according  to 
a  rule  which  he  perfectly  understood. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  as  Oscar  and  Alfred  were 
looking  about  the  stable,  Andy  suddenly  made  his  ap- 
pearance, and  asked  them  for  a  bit  of  tobacco.  Both 
5* 


54  SPELLING. 

of  the  boys,  by  tbe  way,  wished  to  be  considered  tobac- 
co-chewers,  and  usually  carried  a  good-sized  piece  of 
the  vile  weed  in  their  pockets,  though  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  the  little  they  consumed  was  rather  for  ap- 
pearance sake,  than  because  they  liked  it.  They  also 
smoked  occasionally,  for  the  same  reason. 

"  You  must  spell  us  a  word  or  two,  first,"  said  Al- 
fred, in  reply  to  Andy's  request. 

*'  No,  I  can't  stop — got  important  business  to  nego- 
tiate," replied  Andy. 

"  Yes,  you  must,"  continued  Alfred ;  "  spell  fun." 

"  P-h-u-g-n,"  said  Andy. 

"  Spell  hotel,"  continued  Alfred. 
.    "H-o-e-t-e-l-l-e." 
.    "  Spell  calculate,"  said  Oscar. 

"  K-a-1-k-e-w-l-a-i-g-h-t — there,  that  '11  do,"  continued 
Andy. 

"  No,  spell  one  more  word — spell  tobacco,  and  you 
shall  have  it,"  added  Alfred. 

"  T-o-e-b-a-c-k-k-o-u-g-h — now  hand  over  the  'baccy.' 

"  I  have  n't  got  any — have  you,  Oscar  ?"  said  Alfred 

Oscar  fumbled  in  his  pockets,  but  there  was  none  to 
be  found. 


THE      PUPS. 


55 


"You  mean,  contemptible  scalliwags !"  exclaimed 
Andy,  "  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  that  before  ?  You 
catch  me  in  that  trap  again,  if  you  can !"  and  he 
walked  off  in  a  passion,  amid  the  laughter  of  Oscar 
and  Alfred. 

"  Let  's  go  and  see  the  pups,  AU,'^  said  Oscar,  after 
they  had  got  done  laughing  over  the  joke  they  had 
played  upon  Andy. 

Alfred's  step-father  had  a  fine  dog  of  the  hound 
species,  with  a  htter  of  cunning  little  pups.  A  bed  had 
been  made  for  her  and  the  little  ones  in  a  corner  of  the 
yard,  adjoining  the  stable,  with  a  rough  covering  to 
shelter  them  from  wind  and  storms.  The  pups  were 
now  several  weeks  old.  There  were  five  of  them,  and  a 
^at  and  frolicksome  set  they  were  too.  As  the  boys  ap- 
proached them,  they  were  frisking  and  capering  as 
usual ;  tumbling  and  rolling  over  one  another,  climbing 
upon^the  back  of  their  ^mother,  and  pulhng  and  bark- 
ing at  the  straw.  Their  mother,  whose  name  was 
Blight,  sat  watching  their  gambols  with  a  very  affec- 
tionate but  sedate  look.  Perhaps  she  was  wondering 
whether  she  was  ever  so  mischievous  and  frisky  as  these 
little  fellows  were.     When  the  pups  looked  up  and  saw 


56 


BRIGHT     AND      FAMILY. 


the  boys,  they  stopped  their   fun  for  a  time,  for  they 
were  not  yet  much  accustomed  to  company.     Bright, 


however,  knew  both  Alfred  and  Oscar ;  and  as  she  was 
a  dog  of  good  education  and  accomplished  manners, 


APROMISE.  57 

she  did  not  allow  herself  to  be  disconcerted  in  the  least 
by  their  presence. 

"  You  did  n't  know  father  had  given  all  the  pups  but 
one  to  1113,  did  you,  Oscar?"  inquired  Alfred. 

"N"o, — has  he,  though  ?"  asked  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  he  has.  I  knew  I  could  make  him  say  yes, 
and  so  I  teased  him  till  he  did.  He  's  going  to  pick 
out  one,  to  keep,  and  I  'm  to  have  all  the  rest." 

"That  's  first-rate,"  said  Oscar;  "and  you  '11  give  me 
one,  won't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  you  may  have  one,"  replied  Alfred;  "but 
don't  tell  the  boys  I  gave  it  to  you,  for  I  mean  to  sell 
the  others." 

"  Then  I  '11  pay  you  for  mine,"  continued  Oscar ;  "  I 
can  get  the  money  out  of  ftither,  I  guess." 

"No,  you  shan't  pay  for  it,  for  I  meant  you  should 
have  one  of  them,  if  you  wanted  it,"  replied  Alfred. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Oscar,  "I  should  like  one  very 
much." 

After  looking  at  the  dogs  awhile,  and  canvassing 
their  respective  merits,  they  haj^pened  to  notice  that 
one  of  the  drivers  was  about  starting  ojS"  with  his 
coach. 


58  THE      DEPOT. 

"  Halloo,  Mack !"  cried  Alfred,  "  where  are  you  go- 
ing?" 

"  To  the  depot,"  replied  the  driver. 

"  Let  's  go,  Oscar,"  said  Alfred ;  and  both  boys  ran 
for  the  coach,  the  driver  stopping  until  they  had 
climbed  up  to  his  seat. 

A  ride  of  five  minutes  brought  thenii  to  the  depot, 
where  the  driver  reined  up,  to  await  the  arrival  of  a 
train,  which  was  nearly  due.  Many  other  carriages,  of 
various  kinds,  were  standing  around  the  depot,  for  the 
same  purpose.  Oscar  and  Alfred  rambled  about  the 
building  and  adjoining  grounds,  watching  the  opera- 
tions that  were  going  on ;  for  though  they  had  witness- 
ed the  same  operations  many  times  before,  there  is 
something  quite  attractive  about  such  scenes,  even  to 
older  heads  than  theirs.  On  one  track,  within  the  de- 
pot, were  six  or  eight  cars,  beneath  which  a  man  was 
crawling  along,  carefully  examining  the  running  gear, 
and  giving  each  wheel  tw^o  or  three  smart  raps  with  a 
hammer,  to  see  if  it  had  a  clear  and  natural  rinof. 
These  cars  had  lately  arrived  from  a  distant  city,  and 
must  undergo  a  careful  scrutiny  before  they  are  again 
used.     If  any  break  or  flaw  is  discovered,  the  car  is 


AN      ARRIVAL. 


59 


sent  out  to  the  repair-shop.  On  another  track,  the  men 
were  making  up  the  next  outwaid  train.  The  par- 
ticular baggage  and  passenger  cars  that  were  to  be 
used,  bad  to  be  separated  from  the  others,  and  arranged 
in  their  proper  order.  Another  track  was  kept  clear, 
for  the  train  that  was  soon  to  arrive.  Two  or  three 
locomotives,  outside  of  the  depot,  were  fizzing  and  hiss- 
ing, occasionally  moving  back  or  forward,  with  a  loud 
coughing  noise,  or  changing  from  one  track  to  another. 

The  bell  of  the  looked-for  train  was  at  length  heard. 
The  engine,  as  it  approached,  was  switched  upon  a  side- 
track, but  the  cars,  from  which  it  had  been  detached, 
kept  on  their  course  until  the  brakes  brought  them  to 
a  stand  in  the  depot.  The  passengers  now  swarmed 
forth  by  hundreds — a  curious  and  motley  crowd  of 
men,  women,  and  children ;  good-looking  people,  and 
ill-looking  ones;  the  fine  lady  in  silk,  and  the  rough 
backwoods-man  in  homespun  ;  the  middle-aged  woman 
in  black,  with  three  trunks  and  four  bandboxes,  and 
the  smooth-faced  dandy,  whose  sole  baggage  was  a 
slender  cane. 

The  cars  were  at  length  emptied  of  their  living 
freight,  and  most  of  the  passengers  had  secured  their 


60  TWO      STRANGERS. 

baggage.  Those  who  wished  to  ride,  had  mostly  en- 
gaged seats  in  the  various  hacks  and  coaches,  whose 
drivers  accosted  every  passenger,  as  he  got  out  of  the 
cars,  with  their  invitations  to  "  ride  up."  Alfred  and 
Oscar  now  started  to  look  after  the  stage-coach  in 
which  they  rode  to  the  depot.  They  found  it  loaded 
with  passengers  and  baggage,  and  the  diiver  was 
talking  with  two  small  lads,  of  from  twelve  to  thirteen 
years  of  age. 

"Here,  Alf,"  said  the  driver,  "you  are  just  the  fellow 
I  want,  but  I  thought  you  had  gone.  These  boys  want 
to  go  to  the  hotel,  but  I  have  n't  room  to  take  them. 
They  say  they  had  just  as  lief  walk,  and  if  you  '11  let 
them  go  with  you,  I  '11  take  their  trunk  along." 

This  was  readily  agreed  to.  The  driver  made  room 
for  the  trunk  on  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  the  young 
strangers  started  for  the  hotel,  in  company  with  Alfred 
and  Oscar.  As  they  walked  along,  they  grew  quite 
sociable.  The  two  new-comers, — who,  by  the  way, 
were  quite  respectable  in  their  appearance, — stated  that 
they  belonged  in  one  of  the  cities  of  Maine,  and  had 
never  been  in  Boston  before.  They  were  brothers ;  and 
both  their  parents  being  dead,  they  said  they  were  on 


A      W  AL  K.  Gl 

tlieir  way  to  the  west,  where  they  had  an  uncle,  who 

had  sent  for  them  to  come  and  live  with  him.     They 

had  a  good  many  questions  to  ask  about  Boston,  and 

said  they  meant  to  look  around  the  city  some  the  next 

day,  as  they  must  resume  their  journey  on  Monday. 

Alfred  said    he  would  go  with  them,  and  show  them 

the  principal  sights;  and  Oscar,  too,  would  have  gladly 

volunteered,  were  it  not  that  his  father  required  him  to 

go  to  church  and  the  Sabbath-school  on  that  day,  and 

to  stay  in  the  house  when  not  thus  engaged. 

The    boys    had    now  reached   the  hotel,  where    the 

trunk  had  already  arrived.     A  room  was  appropriated 

to  the  young  guests,  and  Alfred  and  Oscar  conducted 

them  to  it,  and  remained   awhile  in  conversation  with 

them.     By-and-bye,  the  oldest  of  the  strangers  asked 

Alfred  if  he  would  go  and  show  them  where  they  could 

buy  some  good  pistols.     Alfred  readily  agreed  to  this, 

and  the  four  boys  started  off  towards  the  shops  where 

such    articles    are    sold.     On    their  way  through   the 

crowded  streets,  the  new-comers    found    much    to    at- 

ti-act   their    attention.      They  seemed  inclined  to  stop" 

at  every  shop  window,  to  admire  some  object,  and  it 

was  nearly  dark  when    they  reached   the   place  where 
6 


62  PISTOLS      AND      KNIVES. 

tliey  wei-e  to  make  tb^r  purcliase.  Here,  amid  the 
variety  of  pistols  that  were  exhibited  to  them,  they  were 
for  a  time  unable  to  decide  which  to  clioose.  At 
'length,  however,  aided  by  the  advice  of  Alfred  and  Os- 
car, they  picked  out  two  that  they  concluded  to  buy. 
They  also  purchased  a  quantity  of  powder  and  balls, 
and  then  desired  to  look  at  some  dirks,  two  of  which 
they  decided  to  take.  Some  fine  pocket-knives  next 
arrested  their  attention,  which  were  examined,  and 
greatly  admired  by  all  the  boys.  The  oldest  of  the 
strangers,  who  did  all  the  business,  concluded  to  take 
four  of  these,  and  then  settled  for  all  the  articles  pur- 
chased. The  bill  was  not  very  small,  but  his  pocket- 
book  was  evidently  well  supplied,  and  he  paid  it  with 
out  any  difficulty. 

After  they  had  left  the  store,  the  oldest  boy  gave  Os 
car  and  Alfred,  each,  one  of  the  pocket-knives,  to  pay 
them  for  their  trouble,  as  he  expressed  it.  They  were 
much  pleased  with  their  present,  and  felt  very  well  satis- 
fied with  their  afternoon's  adventure.  They  were  a  lit- 
tle surprised,  however,  that  their  new  friends  should 
think  it  necessary  to  invest  so  largely  in  weapons  of  de- 
fence ;  and  on  their  hinting  this  surprise,  the  boy  who 


A      BRAVE      SPEECH.  63 

purchased  the  articles  said,  witli  a  careless,  business-like 
air : 

"  0,  we  Ve  got  to  travel  a  good  many  hundred  miles, 
and  tliere  's.  no  knowing  what  rougli  fellows  we  may 
fall  in  with.    But  give  me  a  good  revolver  and  dirk,  an 
I  bet  I  will  take  care  of  myself,  anywhere." 

The  seriousness  with  which  this  brave  language  was 
uttered  by  a  boy  scarcely  yet  in  his  teens,  would  have 
made  even  Alfred  and  Oscar  smile,  but  for  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  new  knives  in  their  pockets. 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  on  coming  to  a  street 
^hich  led  more  directly  towards  his  home,  Oscar  left 
he  other  boys,  with  the  promise  of  seeing  them  again 
«(fonday  morning. 


CHAPTER   y. 

THE      YOUNG      TRAVELLERS. 

rriHE  Sabbath  came,  and  a  fine  autumnal  day  it  was. 
Oscar's  tliongbts  were  with  Alfred,  and  the  boys 
whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  the  afternoon  pre- 
vious ;  but  there  was  little  chance  for  him  to  join  them 
in  their  walks  on  that  day.  He  could  not  absent  him- 
self from  church  or  the  Sunday-school,  without  his 
parents'  knowledge ;  and  Mr.  Preston  had  always  de- 
cidedly objected  to  letting  the'children  stroll  about  the 
streets  on  the  Sabbath.  Oscar  felt  so  uneasy,  however, 
that  in  the  afternoon,  a  little  while  before  meeting- 
time,  he  left  the  house  slyly,  while  his  father  was  up- 
stairs, and  walked  around  to  Alfred's.  But  he  saw  no- 
thing of  the  boys,  and  was  in  his  accustomed  seat  in 
the  church  when  the  afternoon  services  commenced. 

The  Lext  morning,  Oscar  rose  earlier  than  usual,  and 
as  soon  as  he  could  despatch  his  breakfast,  he  hurried 


A      STRONG      TEMPTATION.  65 

over  to  the  laotel.  The  travellers  had  concluded  to  defer 
their  journey  one  day  longer,  that  they  might  have  a 
better  opportunity  to  see  Boston ;  and  when  Oscar  ap- 
proached them,  they  were  trying  to  pei'suade  Alfred  to 
stay  away  from  school,  and  accompany  them  in  their 
rambles.  They  immediately  extended  the  same  invita- 
tion to  Oscar.  Both  he  and  Alfred  felt  very  much  in- 
clined to  accede  to  their  proposition,  but  they  weie  pretty 
sure  that  it  w^ould  be  useless  to  ask  their  parents'  con- 
sent to  absent  themselves  from  school  for  such  a  pur- 
pose. The  point  to  be  settled  was,  whether  it  Avould 
be  safe  to  play  truant  for  the  day.  Seeing  that  they 
hesitated,  the  oldest  boy,  whose  name  was  Joseph,  be- 
gan to  urge  the  matter  still  more  earnestly. 

"  AVhat  are  you  afraid  of?"  he  said ;  "come  along, 
it  's  no  killing  affair  to  stay  away  from  school  just  for 
one  day.  You  can  manage  so  that  nobody  will  know- 
it  ;  ^nd  if  they  should  find  it  out,  it  won't  make  any 
diflei'ence  a  hundred  years  hence.  Come,  now,  I  '11  tell 
you  ^vhat  I  '11  do ;  if  you  two  will  go  around  with  us 
to-day,  I  '11  give  you  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  apiece." 

Oscar  and  Alfred,  after  some  little  hesitation,  yielded 

to  their  request,  and  the  four  boys  started   on   their 
6* 


66  MISGIVINGS. 

tramp.  It  was  not  witliout  many  misgivings,  however, 
that  Oscar  decided  to  accompany  them.  With  him, 
the  chances  of  detection  were  much  greater  than  with 
AhVed.  ISTo  brothers  of  the  latter  attended  school,  to 
notice  and  report  his  absence.  Witli  Oscar,  the  case 
was  different,  and  he  did  not  see  exactly  how  his  truan- 
cy was  to  be  concealed  from  his  parents  and  teachers. 
But  as  Alfred  was  going  with  the  boys,  he  finally  con- 
cluded that  he,  too,  would  run  the  risk  for  at  least  half 
a  day,  and  trust  to  luck  to  escape  punishment. 

It  was  decided  to  go  over  to  the  neighboring  city  of 
Charlestown,  first,  and  visit  the  Monument  and  Xavy- 
Yard,  both  of  which  the  young  strangers  were  quite 
anxious  to  see.  Joseph,  the  oldest  and  most  forward, 
began  to  be  on  quite  intimate  terms  with  Oscar  and  Al- 
fred. He  threw  off  every  restraint,  and  laughed  and 
talked  with  them  just  as  if  they  were  old  acquaintances. 
One  thing  very  noticeable  about  him,  was  his  profanity. 
Neither  Alfred  nor  Oscar,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  en- 
tirely free  from  this  wicked  and  disgusting  habit ;  but 
they  had  made  so  little  advance  in  this  vice,  compai'ed 
with  their  new  fi-iend,tbat  even  they  were  slightly  shocked 
by  the  frequent  and  often  startling  oaths  of  Joseph. 


STEALING.  67 

The  younger  lad,  whose  name  was  Stephen,  appeared 
to  be  quite  unlike  his  brother.  Though  sociable,  he 
was  less  gay  and  more  reserved  than  Joseph,  but  he 
seemed  to  be  much  interested  in  the  novel  sights  that 
met  his  eye  at  every  step. 

On  their  way,  the  boys  came  to  a  cellar  which  was 
occupied  by  a  dealer  in  fruits  and  other  refreshments. 
Around  the  entrance  were  arranged  numerous  boxes  of 
oranges,  apples,  nuts,  candy,  and  similar  articles,  to 
tempt  the  passer-by  to  stop  and  purchase.  The  owner 
was  not  in  sight,  and  Joseph,  as  he  passed  along,  bold- 
ly helped  himself  from  one  of  the  boxes,  taking  a  good 
hand-full  of  walnuts.  On  looking  around,  a  moment 
after,  he  saw  a  man  running  up  the  cellar  steps,  and 
concluded  that  he,  too,  had  better  quicken  his  pace. 
He  accordingly  started  on  a  brisk  run,  the  other  boys 
joining  in  his  flight.  -  The  man,  who  happened  to  wit- 
ness the  theft  from  the  back  part  of  the  cellar,  soon  saw 
that  pursuit  would  be  useless,  and  contented  himself 
with  shaking  his  fist,  and  uttering  some  anathemas 
which  were  inaudible  to  those  for  whom  they  were  in- 
tended. 

"That  was  a  pretty  narrow  escape,  was  n't  it?"  said 


€>8  THE      STOLEN      SUGAR. 

Joseph,  after  they  had  got  a  safe  distance  from  the 
man. 

"  It  was  so,"  replied  Alfred ;  "  and  it  was  lucky  for 
you  that  he  did  n't  catch  you." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  suppose  he  would  have  done  ?" 

"  He  would  have  taken  you  up  for  stealing,  I  guess, 
for  he  looked  mad  enough  to  do  anything,"  said  Alfred. 

"  Stealing  ?  Pooh,  a  man  must  be  a  fool  to  make 
such  a  fuss  about  a  cent's-worth  of  nuts,"  replied 
Joseph. 

"  I  knew  a  boy,"  said  Oscar,  "  who  stole  a  cake  of 
maple  sugar  from  one  of  these  stands,  and  his  father 
had  to  pay  two  or  three  dollars  to  get  him  out  of  the 
scrape." 

"  I  would  n't  have  done  it,"  said  Joseph  ;  "  I  'd  have 
gone  to  jafl  first — that  's  just  my  pluck." 

"  But  the  boy  did  n't  do  it — it  was  his  father  that 
paid  the  money,"  added  Oscar. 

"  O,  then,  I  suppose  the  boy  was  n't  to  blame,"  said 
Joseph,  with  all  seriousness ;  as  though  he  really  be- 
lie'i'^d  that  somebody  was  to  blame,  not  for  stealing  the 
maple  sugar,  but  for  satisfying  the  man  who  had  been 
injured  by  the  theft. 


CHARLESTOWN.  69 

They  were  now  upon  one  of  the  bridges  which  cross 
Charles  River,  and  connect  the  cities  of  Boston  and 
Charlestown.  After  passing  half-way  over,  they  stopped 
a  few  minutes  to  gaze  at  the  scene  spread  out  around 
them.  Oscar  and  Alfred  pointed  out  to  the  strangers 
the  various  objects  of  interest,  and  they  then  continued 
their  walk  without  interruption  until  they  reached  the 
Monument  grounds,  on  Bunker  Hill.  After  examining 
the  noble  granite  shaft  wdiich  commemorates  the  first 
great  battle  of  the  American  Revolution,  they  threw 
themselves  down  upon  the  grass,  to  contemplate  at 
their  leisure  the  fine  panorama  which  this  hill  affords 
on  a  clear  day. 

After  lingering  half  an  hour  around  the  Monument, 
they  turned  their  steps  towards  the  Navy- Yard.  On 
reaching  it,  they  found  a  soldier  slowly  pacing  back 
and  forth,  in  front  of  the  gate-w^ay  ;  but  he  made  no  ob- 
jection to  their  entering.  Joseph  and  Stephen,  who 
had  never  before  visited  an  establishment  of  this  kind, 
were  first  struck  by  the  extent  of  the  yard,  and  the  air 
of  order  and  neatness  which  seemed  everywhere  to  pre- 
vail. They  gazed  with  curiosity  upon  the  long  rows  of 
iion   cannons    inteispersed  with    pyramids  of  cannon- 


70 

balls,  piled  up  in  exact  order,  which  were  spread  out 
upon  the  parks.  Then  their  wonder  was  excited  by  the 
dry-dock,  with  its  smooth  granite  walls,  its  massive 
gates,  and  its  capacious  area,  sufficient  to  float  the 
largest  frigate.  The  lofty  ship-houses  in  which  vessels 
are  constructed,  and  the  long  stone  rope-walk,  with  its 
curious  machinery,  also  attracted  their  attention.  So 
interested  were  they  in  these  things,  that  nearly  two 
hours  elapsed  before  they  started  for  home. 

On  their  way  back  to  the  hotel,  Joseph  entertained 
Alfred  and  Oscar  with  some  incidents  of  his  life.  His 
mother,  he  said,  died  when  he  was  quite  young.  His 
father  went  to  sea  as  the  captain  of  a  ship,  two  years 
before,  and  had  never  been  heard  from.  He  had  rich 
relatives,  who  wanted  him  to  go  to  West  Point  and  be 
a  cadet,  but  he  did  not  like  to  study,  and  had  persuad- 
ed them  to  let  him  and  Stephen  go  and  live  with  their 
uncle  at  the  west,  who  had  no  boys  of  his  own,  and 
wanted  somebody  to  help  him  to  manage  his  immense 
farm.     Such,  in  brief,  was  Joseph's  story. 

On  their  return  route,  the  boys  were  careful  to  avoid 
passing  by  the  cellar  from  w^iieh  Joseph  had  stolen  the 
nuts.     With  all  his  pluck  and  bravery,  he  did  not  care 


PERPLEXITY.  71 

about  meeting  the  man  whose  displeasure  he  had  ex- 
cited a  few  hours  before. 

It  was  twelve  o'clock  before  the  boys  reached  the 
hotel.  Oscar,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  walk,  had 
been  unusually  silent.  He  was  thinking  how  he  should 
manage  to  conceal  his  truancy,  but  he  could  not  hit 
upon  any  satisfactory  plan.  The  more  he  reflected 
upon  the  matter,  the  more  he  was  troubled  and  per- 
plexed about  it.  He  might  possibly  hide  his  mis-spent 
forenoon  from  his  parents,  but  how  should  he  explain 
his  absence  to  his  teachers  ?  He  could  not  tell.  He 
decided,  how^ever,  to  see  his  brothers  before  they  should 
get  home  from  school,  and,  if  they  had  noticed  his  ab- 
sence, to  prevail  upon  them  to  say  nothing  about  it. 

"  You  '11  be  back  again  after  dinner,  Oscar  ?"  said 
Alfred,  as  his  friend  started  for  home. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Oscar,  with  some  hesitation  ;  "  I  '11  see 
you  before  school-time." 

"  School-time  ?  You  don't  intend  to  go  tq^  school 
this  afternoon,  do  you  ?"  inquired  Alfred. 

Oscar  did  not  reply,  but  hastened  homeward.  He 
soon  found  Ralph  and  George,  but  as  neither  of  them 
spoke  of  his  absence  from  school,  he  concluded  that 


72  A      DISCOVERY.  -^ 

tliey  were  ignorant  of  it,  and  he  therefore  made  no  al- 
lusion to  the  subject. 

After  dinner,  Oscar  had  about  half  an  hour  to  spend 
with  Alfred ;  for  he  felt  so  uneasy  in  his  mind,  that  he 
had  decided  not  to  absent  himself  from  school  in  the 
afternoon.  He  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  when  he 
'met  his  comrade,  who  had  started  in  pursuit  of  him. 

"  Well,"  said  Alfred,  "  we  've  been  taken  in  nicely, 
that  's  a  fact." 

"  Taken  in — what  do  you  mean  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Why,  by  those  young  scamps  that  we  've  been 
showing  around  town." 

"  I  thought  they  told  great  stories,"  said  Oscar;  "but 
what  have  you  found  out  about  them  ?" 

"I  've  found  out  that  they  are  the  greatest  h'ars  I 
ever  came  across — or  at  least  that  the  oldest  fellow  is," 
replied  Alfred  ;  and  he  then  went  on  to  relate  what 
transpired  immediately  after  Oscar  left  them,  on  their 
return  from  Chai'lestown.  The  landlord,  it  seems,  re- 
quested the  two  strange  boys  to  step  into  one  of  the 
parlors ;  and  Alfred,  not  understanding  the  order,  ac- 
companied them.  They  found  two  men  seated  there, 
^he  sight  of  whom  seemed  anything  but  pleasant  to 


YOUNG     RUNAWAYS.  73 

Joseph  and  Stephen.  These  men  were  their  fathers — 
for  the  boys  were  not  brothers,  and  Joseph's  account  of 
their  past  life  and  future  prospects  was  entirely  false. 
They  had  run  away  from  home,  and  the  money  which 
they  had  so  profusely  spent,  Joseph  stole  from  his 
father.  The  men,  who  had  been  put  to  much  trouble 
in  hunting  up  their  wayward  sons,  did  not  greet  them 
very  cordially.  They  looked  stern  and  offended,  but 
said  little.  Joseph  was  obliged  to  deliver  up  his  money 
to  his  father,  and  they  immediately  made  preparations 
for  returning  home  by  the  afternoon  train. 

"  Well,"  said  Oscar,  when  Alfred  had  concluded  his 
story,  "  I  did  n't  believe  all  that  boy  said,  at  the  time, 
but  I  thought  I  would  n't  say  so." 

"Nor  I,  neither,"  said  Alfred.  "I  guess  he  did  n't 
expect  his  father's  ship  would  arrive  so  suddenly,  when 
he  tried  to  stuff  us  up  so." 

"Did  your  father  know  you  went  off  with  them  in 
the  forenoon?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  but  he  did  n't  care  much  about  it.  He  told 
"me  I  must  go  to  school  this  afternoon,  and  not  stay 
away  again  without  leave." 

The  rules  of  the  school  required  a  written  note  of  cs- 


74  ACONFESSION. 

cuse  from  the  i^arents,  in  case  of  absence.  Neither  of 
the  boys  was  furnished  with  such  an  excuse,  and  after 
a  little  consultation,  they  concluded  that  their  chances 
of  escaping  punishment  would  be  greatest,  if  they 
should  frankly  confess  how  they  had  been  duped  and 
led  astray  by  the  young  rogues  whose  acquaintance 
they  had  so  suddenlj^  and  imprudently  formed.  They 
supposed  that  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case, 
coupled  with  a  voluntary  confession,  might  excite  some 
degree  of  sympathy,  rather  than  displeasure,  towards 
them.  To  make  the  matter  doubly  sure,  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  Alfred  should  speak  to  the  master  about 
the  matter  before  school  commenced. 

When  the  boys  reached  the  school-room,  they  found 
the  master  already  at  his  desk.  He  listened  with  inter- 
est to  Alfred's  story  of  the  runaways,  and  was  evidently 
pleased  that  he  had  so  frankly  confessed  his  fciult.  As 
the  hour  for  commencing  the  afternoon  session  had  ar- 
rived, he  told  Alfred  and  Oscar  they  might  stop  after 
school,  and  he  would  take  their  case  into  consideration. 

The  afternoon  passed  away,  without  any  unusual  oc- 
currence. When  school  was  dismissed,  •  the  teacher 
called  Alfred   and  Oscar  to  his  desk,  and  gave  them 


% 


GOODADVICE.  75 

some  excellent  advice  in  regard  to  forming  acquaint- 
ances, and  yielding  to  the  solicitations  of  evil  associates. 
He  told  them  that  the  deception  which  had  been  prac- 
ticed upon  them,  should  serve  as  a  lesson  to  them  here- 
after. They  should  not  form  sudden  acquaintances 
with,  strange  and  unknown  boys,  but  should  choose 
their  associates  from  among  those  whom  they  knew  to 
be  of  good  habits.  He  also  earnestly  cautioned  them 
against  yielding  to  the  enticements  of  those  who  would 
persuade  them  to  do  wrong.  He  told  them  that  when- 
ever they  laid  the  blame  of  their  faults  upon  others, 
they  made  a  sad  confession  of  their  own  moral  weak- 
ness. They  riiust  often  encounter  temptations,  and  evil 
examples  and  influences,  even  if  they  took  pains  to 
avoid  them  ;  but  they  were  not  obliged  to  yield  to  these 
influences.  They  must  learn  to  resist  temptation,  or 
they  would  speedily  be  swept  away  before  it. 

Having  faithfully  pointed  out  their  error  and  danger, 
the  teacher  dismissed  the  boys,  .  They  listened  respect- 
fully to  his  advice,  and,  when  they  were  beyond  his 
hearing,  chuckled  over  their  escape  from  a  species  of 
admonition  'that  might  have  proved  far  more  feeling 
and   afl'ecting,  if  not  more  salutary,  than  the  kindly- 


76  LENIENCY     EXPLAINED. 

meant  reproof  Avhicli  had  been  administered  to  them. 
The  leniency  of  the  teacher,  however,  must  be  attribut- 
ed to  his  not  fully  understanding  the  character  of  their 
offence ;  for  Alfred  had  so  artfully  represented  the  facts 
of  the  case,  as  to  make  tlieir  truancy  appear  in  a  milder 
liofht  than  it  deserved  to  be  reo:arded. 


% 


CHAPTER    VI. 


"  O^^^"^'  ^^  <iowii  cellar  and  get  some  coal,"  said 
Mrs.  Preston  one  evening,  when  the  fire  was  get- 
ting low. 

"  I  'm  reading — you  go  and  get  it,  Ralph,"  said  Os- 
car, without  looking  up  from  the  newspaper  in  his 
hand. 

"No,  I  shan't,"  replied  Ralph ;  "I  Ve  done  all  your 
chores  to-day,  and  I  won't  do  any  more." 

"  Tell  Bridget  to  bring  it  up,  then,"  added  Oscar,  his 
eyes  still  fastened  upon  his  paper. 

"  Oscar,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  sharply,  "  I  told  you  to 

get  it,  and  do  you  obey  me,  this  minute.     Bridget  has 

worked  hard  all  day,  and  Ralph  has  already  had  to  do 

several  errands  and  jobs  that  you  ought  to  have  done, 

and  that  is  the  reason  why  I  did  not  ask  them  to  get 

the  coal.     You  have  done  nothing  but  play,  when  you 
7* 


78  EVADINGWORK. 

vs'ere  out  of  school,  since  morniDg,  and  now,  when  I  ask 
you  to  do  a  trifling  thing,  you  try  to  shirk  it  upon 
somebody  else.  I  do  wish  you  would  break  yourself  of 
your  laziness,  and  have  a  little  consideration  for  other 
people." 

Oscar  reluctantly  obeyed  his  mother's  order.  Indeed, 
it  was  seldom  that  he  was  very  prompt  to  obey,  when 
any  kind  of  labor  was  required  of  him.  He  had  a 
peculiar  knack  of  getting  rid  of  work.  If  he  was  direct- 
ed to  do  a  thing,  he  was  almost  sure  to  try  to  coax  » 
Alice,  or  Ella,  or  Ralph,  or  Bridget,  or  somebody  else, 
to  do  it  for  him.  He  never  taxed  his  own  legs,  or 
hands,  or  muscles,  when  he  could  make  use  of  other 
people's.  This  lazy  habit  was  a  source  of  no  small  anx- 
iety to  his  mother,  and  was  a  constant  annoyance  to  all 
the  family. 

"Well,  you  did  make  out  to  get  it,"  said  Mi*s.  Pres- 
ton, in  a  pleasant  tone,  when  Oscar  returned  with  the 
coal.     "  I  hope  it  did  n't  hurt  you  much." 

"I  was  n't  afraid  of  its  hurting  me,"  said  Oscar; 
"but  I  was  reading,  and  did  n't  want  to  stop." 

"I  am  afraid  that  is  only  an  excuse,"  replied  his 
mother.     "  It  has  really  got  to  be  a  habit  with  you  to 


LAZINESS.  79 

call  upon  somebody  else,  wlienever  you  are  told  to  do  a 
thing.  We  have  all  noticed  it,  a  hundred,  times,  and 
you  alone  seem  to  be  blind  to  it.  In  a  year  or  two, 
when  you  are  old  enough  to  leave  school,  and  ,go  to  a 
place,  what  do  you  suppose  you  will  be  good  for,  if  you 
keep  on  in  this  way  ?  Why,  the  man  who  shoiild  take 
you  into  his  employ,  would  have  to  hire  another  boy 
on  purpose  to  wait  upon  you." 

"  It  is  just  as  mother  says,  Oscar,''  added  his  eldest 
sister,  Alice.  "  It  was  only  this  morning  that  Bridget 
was  scolding,  because  you  wanted  to  be  waited  upon  so 
much.  She  says  you  make  her  more  trouble  than  all 
the  rest  of  us  together." 

Oscar  could  not  deny  these  charges,  and  so  he  said 
nothing,  but  appeared  to  be  reading  his  newspaper  very 
intently.  Mr.  Preston  came  in  soon  after,  and  the 
family  sat  down  to  tea. 

"  Oscar,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  "  next  week  is  vacation,  is 
it  not  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Well,  I  shall  want  you  in  the  store  a  part  of  the 
time,"  continued  his  father.     "  Frank  is  going  home  to 


80  THE      ERRAND      BOY. 

spend  Thanksgiving,  and  as  it  will  be  a  busy  week  with 
us,  we  must  have  somebody  to  take  his  place." 

"Why  can't  Henry  do  the  errands  while  Frank  is 
away  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Because  Henry  will  have  as  much  other  work  as  he 
can  attend  to,"  replied  Mr.  Preston. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  let  Frank  go  off  at  such  a 
time,"  said  Oscar,  pettishly. 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  see,"  replied  his 
father.  "  I  can  manage  my  business  without  any  advice 
from  you,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  call  me  to  account 
for  what  I  do.  I  have  given  Frank  a  vacation,  and  I 
shall  expect  assistance  from  you — that  is  all  it  is  nec- 
essary for  you  to  know  about  it." 

Frank  was  the  errand-boy  in  Mr.  Preston's  shop. 
Henry,  upon  whom  Oscar  wished  to  lay  the  burden  oc- 
casioned by  Frank's  absence,  was  a  young  cleik,  who 
had  formerly  served  as  chore-boy,  but  was  now  pite 
useful  as  a  salesman. 

It  was  evident,  from  Oscar's  looks,  that  he  did  not 
much  relish  the  idea  of  taking  Frank's  place  for  a 
week.     His  mother,  noticing  this,  said : 

"  AYhy,  Oscar,  I  thought  you  and  Frank  were  good 


TAKING     HIS      PLACE.  81 


fri^ids,  and  I  should  suppose  you  would  be  willing  to 
relieve  him  a  few  days.  The  poor  boy  has  been  away 
from  his  mother  nearly  a  year,  and  it  is  natural  that  he 
should  want  to  go  home  and  spend  Thanksgiving.  If 
you  were  in  his  place,  and  he  in  yours,  don't  you  think 
you  should  like  the  arrangement  your  father  proposes?" 

"  I  suppose  I  should,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  but  it  's  hard 
for  me  to  lose  my  vacation,  for  the  sake  of  letting  him 
have  one." 

"  You  will  not  lose  all  your  vacation,"  said  his  father. 
"  If  you  are  lively,  you  can  do  all  I  shall  want  you  to 
do  in  four  or  five  hours,  and  have  the  rest  of  the  day  to 
yourself." 

"And  I  'U  help  you,  too,"  said  Ralph,  who  was  al- 
ways ready  to  offer  his  assistance  in  such  a  case  as 
this. 

"Thanksgiving  week"  soon  arrived,  and  the  busy 
note  of  preparation  for  the  approaching  festival  was 
heard  throughout  the  house.  Bridget  was  invested 
with  a  new  dignity,  in  the  eyes  of  the  children,  as  she 
bustled  about  among  the  mince-meat  and  the  pie-crust, 
the  eggs  and  the  milk,  the  fruit  and  the  spices,  that 
were  to  be  compounded  into  all  sorts  of  good  things. 


82  BUSYTIMES. 

The  house  was  filled  with  savory  odors  from  the  oven, 
and  long  rows  of  pies  began  to  fill  up  every  vacant 
space  in  the  closet.  Mrs.  Preston  was  busy,  superin- 
tending the  operations  'of  the  household ;  while  Alice 
and  Ella  rendered  such  assistance  as  they  could,  in  the 
chopping  of  pie-meat,  the  paring  of  apples,  the  picking 
of  raisins,  &c.  The  boys,  for  their  share,  had  an  un- 
usual number  of  errands  to  run,  to  keep  the  busy  hands 
inside  supplied  with  working  materials.  Oscar,  how- 
ever, was  released  for  the  week  from  all  home  chores,  in 
consideration  of  his  eno-ao-ements  at  the  store. 

Oscar  did  not  find  his  duties  as  temporary  store-boy 
quite  so  irksi!|P^'or  disagreeable  as  he  anticipated. 
The  work  was  hght,  and  the  no\'elty  of  it  served  to  ofi- 
set  the  confinement,  which  he  had  dreaded  more  than 
anything  else.  With  some  assistance  from  Ealph,  he 
managed  to  do  all  that  was  required  of  him,  and  still 
have  several  hours  each  day  for  play.  He  also  had  an 
opportunity  to  learn  some  useful  lessons  during  the 
.  week. 

One  morning,  his  father  sent  him  up-stairs  to  sweep 
out  a  room  ay  Inch  was  devoted  to  a  certain  branch  of 
the  business.     Happening  to  go  into  it  an  hour  or  two 


LEARNING      TO      SWEEP.  83 

after,  Mr.  Preston  observed  tliat  it  was  in  a  dirty  state, 
and  called  to  Oscar  to  get  a  broom  and  sprinkler,  and 
come  up. 

"  I  told  you  to  sweep  this  room  out,"  said  he,  as  Os- 
car made  his  appearance  ;  "  did  you  forget  it  ?" 

"  I  have  swept  it,"  said  Oscar,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"You  have?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Preston,  with  an  air  of 
incredulity;  "I  guess  you  are  mistaken.  You  may 
have  shaken  the  broom  at  it,  but  I  don't  think  you 
swept  it.  See  there— and  there — and  there," — and  ho 
pointed  out  numerous  little  heaps  of  dirt,  and  scraps  of 
paper,  which  had  escaped  Oscar's  broom.  "Now,"  he 
continued,  "  let  me  show  you  how  to  sweep.  In  the 
first  place,  always  sprinkle  the  floor  a  little,  to  i)revent 
the  dust  flying,  as  I  told  you  a  day  or  two  ago.  Yoa 
omitted  that  this  morning,  did  n't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Well,  just  remember  it  hereafter,  for  the  dust  in- 
jures the  goods.  There  's  Avater  enough,  now  pass  me 
the  broom,  and  I  '11  show  you  how  to  handle  it.  Look, 
now— that  's  the  way  to  sweep— get  all  the  dirt  oat 
from  the  corners  and  crevices,  and  along  the  edges,  and 
under  the  counters.     Use  the  broom  as  though  you 


84  SLIGHTINGWORK. 

meant  to  do  something,  and  were  not  afraid  of  it. 
There,  that  's  the  way  to  sweep  clean — so — and  so," 
and  Mr.  Preston  continued  his  explanations  and  illus- 
trations, until  he  had  swept  the  entire  floor. 

"There,  now,  does  n't  that  look  better  ?"  he  added, 
after  he  had  finished  sweeping.  "  If  a  thing  is  worth 
doing  at  all,  it  is  worth  doing  well — that  's  the  true 
doctrine,  Oscar.  I  hope  you  won't  get  in  the  habit  of 
making  half-way  work  with  whatever  you  undertake. 
If  I  never  expected  to  do  anything  but  sweep  chimneys 
or  dig  clams  for  a  living,  I  would  do  it  thoroughly 
and  faithfully.  Of  all  things,  I  despise  a  lazy,  slovenly 
workman." 

It  was  a  very  common  thing  with  Oscar  to  slight  his 
work,  wten  he  could  not  get  rid  of  it  entirely.  This 
was  partly  the  result  of  a  want  of  interest  in  it, 
and  partly  the  result  of  habit.  The  child  who  per- 
forms a  task  reluctantly,  will  not  be  very  likely  to  do 
it  welL 

The  day  before  Thanksgiving,  as  Oscar  was  on  his 
way  to  the  store,  after  dinner,  he  met  Alfred  Walton. 

"You  're  just  the  chap  I  'm  after,  Oscar,"  said  Al- 
fred; "I'm  going  out  to  Cambridge,  all  alone  in  a 


GOINGTORIDE.  85 

wagon,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me.     Come,  jump 

in  and  go,  won't  you  ?" 

"  This  was  a  tempting  invitation  to  Oscar,  but  he  did 

not  see  how  he  could  accept  it.     He  was  needed  at  the 

store  more  than  ever,  that  afternoon,  but  it  was  too  bad 

to  lose  such  a  fine  chance  to  enjoy  himself.    Alfred  was 

in  a  hurry,  and  could  not  stop  long  for  him  to  consider 

the  matter.     So  he  concluded  to  run  home,  and  ask  his 

father's  permission,  while  Alfred  went  and  got  the  hoi-se- 

ready.     But  when  he  got  home,  his  father  had  left.. 

He  found  Ralph,  however,  who  readily  agreed  to  take 

his  place  at  the  store,  for  the  afternoon ;  and  on  the 

strength  of  this  arrangement,  he  hurried  to  the  hotel 

and  rode  off  with  Alfred. 

It  was  a  mild,  pleasant  afternoon,  and  the  boys  had 

a  fine  ride.     Alfred  had  been  among  horses  so  much, 

that  he  understood  their  management  pretty  well,  and 

was   a  very  good  driver.     He  prided  himself  on  his 

ability  to  turn  a  neat  corner,  and  to  steer  through  the 

narrowest   and   most   crooked   passage-ways,  such    as 

abound  in  the  contracted  and  crowded  streets  of  a  city. 

When  they  reached  the  broad  avenues  of  Cambridge, 

he  allowed  Oscar  to  take  the  reins  awhile,  at  his  rec^uest.. 
8 


OO  UNEASY     FEELINGS. 

Alfred's  step-father  had  been  out  to  Cambridge,  in  tbe 
forenoon  of  the  same  day,  and  had  purchased  a  horse 
at  the  cattle-market  which  is  held  weekly  at  that  place. 
As  he  was  obliged  to  return  home  by  the  cars,  he  left 
word  that  he  would  send  out  for  the  horse,  in  the  after- 
^noon.  This  was  Alfred's  errand.  After  several  in 
quiries,  the  boys  found  the  man  who  sold  the  horse. 
Having  examined  the  new  purchase,  and  freely  express- 
ed their  opinions  of  the  animal's  "  points,"  they  hitched 
his  halter  to  the  wagon,  and  set  out  for  home. 

The  sun  was  rapidly  descending,  when  the  boys 
reached  the  hotel  stable.  Oscar,  who  felt  somewhat 
uneasy  about  his  absence  from  the  store,  turned  his 
steps  in  that  direction,  soon  after  he  alighted  from  the 
wagon.  He  found  all  hands  very  busy,  and  for  a  long 
time  no  one  appeared  to  notice  him.  At  length  his 
father  happened  to  come  to  the  part  of  the  shop  where 
he  was,  and  asked  him  where  he  had  been  all  the  after- 
noon. Oscar  proceeded  to  explain  the  cause  of  his  ab- 
Benee,  but  Mr.  Preston  was  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to 
.listen  to  his  long  excuses,  and  so  he  cut  him  short,  and 
told  ihim,  in  not  very  pleasant  tones,  that  Ralph  had 
dnne  th«  work,  and  he  (Oacar)  might  go  home  again, 


87 

just  as  soon  as  he  pleased — a  privilege  of  whicTi  lie 
quickly  availed  himself. 

At  the  tea-table,  that  "evening,  Mr.  Preston  expressed 
his  displeasure  with  Oscar's  conduct  in  very  pointed 
terms.  Oscar  now  explained  the  circumstances  of  his 
going  away — his  attempt  to  get  his  father's  consent, 
and  the  promise  of  Ralph  to  supply  his  place.  But  the 
explanation  did  not  satisfy  Mr.  Preston.  He  said  Oscar 
knew  he  was  needed  that  afternoon,  and  he  ought  not  to 
have  asked  to  go  away,  or  even  to  have  thought  of  it. 
Even  if  Ralph  was  willing  to  do  his  work,  he  did  not 
like  his  putting  so  much  upon  his  younger  and  weaker 
brother.  He  then  complimented  Ralph  for  his  industry, 
and  his  willingness  to  make  himself  useful,  and  held 
him  up  to  Oscar  as  a  pattern  he  would  do  well  to  imi- 
tate. He  concluded  his  lecture  to  the  latter,  by  draw- 
ing from  his  pocket  a-  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and  present- 
ing it  to  Ralph,  as  a  reward  for  his  services.  This 
Uuiched  Oscar's  feelings  rather  more  than  his  father's 
reproofs.  He  thought  to  himself  that  he  had  perform 
ed  as  much  work  in  the  store  as  Ralph,  to  say  the  least, 
and  was  therefore  as  much  entitled  to  a  reward  as  he. 
There  was  this  difference,  however,  which  he  entirely 


88  THE     DIFFERENCE. 

overlooked  :  Oscar  did  his  share  of  the  work  reluctant- 
ly and  from  compulsion  ;  Ralph  did  his  cheerfully  and 
voluntarily,  and  solely  for  the  purpose  of  making  him- 
self useful. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THANKSGIVING-DAY, 


rp  H ANKSGiy ING  -  DAY 
had  come.     Araone:  the 
P     multitude  of  good  things  it 
brought    with    it,   not    the 
least  important,  in  the  eyea 
of  the  children,  was  a  visit 
from  their  grand- 
mother, Mrs.  Lee, 
who  arrived  the 
evening  previous. 
She      was      the 
mother   of   Mrs. 


Preston,  and  lived  in  a  distant  town  in  Vermont.     She 

had  not  visited  the  family  for  several  years,  and  the 

children  and  their  parents  were  all  very  glad  to  see  her 

once  more.     She  was  much  surprised  to  find  how  the 
8* 


90  THE      TRUNK     UNPACKED. 

young  folks  had  grown  since  she  last  saw  them.  Alice 
had  shot  up  into  a  young  lady.  Oscar,  who  she  re- 
membered as  "  a  little  bit  of  a  fellov/,"  was  a  tall  boy. 
Ella,  too,  was  quite  a  miss,  and  Georgie,  "  the  baby," 
had  long  since  exchanged  his  frock  for  the  jacket, 
trowsers,  and  boots,  of  boyhood.  All  these  changes 
had  happened  since  their  grandmother's  last  visit ;  and 
yet  (she  was  just  the  same  pleasant,  talkative  old  lady 
that  she  was  years  ago.  The  children  could  not  dis- 
cover that  time  had  left  so  much  as  one  new  wrinkle  on 
her  well-remembered  face. 

After  breakfast,  their  grandmother  proceeded  to  un- 
pack her  trunk.  From  its  capacious  depths  she  drew 
forth  sundry  articles, — specimens  of  her  own  handiwork, 
— which  she  distributed  among  the  children,  as  gifts. 
They  were  all  articles  of  utility,  such  as  warm,  "  coun- 
try-knit" mittens  and  socks  for  the  boys,  and  tippets 
and  stockings  for  the  girls.  A  large  bag  filled  with 
nuts,  and  another  of  pop-corn,  were  also  among  the 
content^  of  the  trunk,  and  were  handed  to  the  children 
to  be  divided  among  them. 

In  accordance  with  an  agreement  made  the  day  be- 
fore, Oscar  soon  left  the  house,  and  went  in  search  of 


THE     SHOOTING-MATCH.  91 

Alfred.  Having  found  him,  they  set  out  for  South 
Boston,  in  company  with  two  or  three  boys,  to  witness 
a  shooting-match  got  up  by  a  man  who  worked  about 
the  stable.  The  spot  selected  for  the  sport  was  a  re- 
tired field,  where  there  was  little  danger  of  being  inter- 
rupted. On  reaching  the  ground,  the  boys  found  a 
small  collection  of  young  men  and  lads  already  en- 
gaged in  the  cruel  amusement;  for  the  mark  was  a  live 
fowl,  tied  to  a  stake.  The  company  assembled  were  of 
a  decidedly  low  order,  and  Oscar  at  first  felt  almost 
ashamed  to  be  seen  among  them.  Smoking,  swearing, 
betting,  and  quarrelling,  were  all  going  on  at  once,  in- 
terspersed with  occasional  shouts  of  laughter  at  some 
vulgar  joke,  or  at  the  fluttering  and  cries  of  a  wounded 
fowl.  Sometimes  a  poor  chicken  would  receive  several 
shots,  before  its  misery  would  be  terminated  by  a  fatal 
one.  When  one  fowl  was  killed,  a  fresh  one  was 
brought  forth.  Each  man  who  fired  at  the  mark,  paid 
a  trifling  sum  for  the  privilege,  and  was  entitled  to  the 
fowl,  if  he  killed  it. 

Oscar  and  his  young  companions  lingered  around  the 
grounds  for  an  hour  or  two,  familiarizing  themselves 
■with  scenes  of  shameful  cruelty,  and  b^'^athing  an  at- 


92  Alfred's    character. 

mospbei'e  loaded  with  pollution  and  moral  death.  The 
repugnance  which  Oscar  at  first  felt  to  the  party  and 
its  doings  was  so  far  overcome,  that  before  he  left  he 
himself  fired  one  or  two  shots,  with  a  rifle  which  was 
lent  to  him. 

Oscar  reached  home  before  the  hour  for  dinner.  As 
he  entered  the  sitting-room,  his  mother,  who  had  missed 
him,  inquired  where  he  had  been  all  the  forenoon. 

"I  've  been  with  Alf,"  he  replied. 

His  mother  did  not  notice  this  evasion  of  her  ques- 
tion, but  added : 

"Why  do  you  want  to  be  with  Alfred  so  much  ?  It 
seems  to  me  you  might  find  better  company.  I  'm 
afraid  he  is  not  so  good  a  boy  as  he  might  be.  I  don't 
like  his  looks  very  much." 

"  Why,  mother,"  said  Oscar,  "  Alf  is  n't  a  bad  'boy, 
and  I  never  heard  anybody  say  he  was.  I  like  him 
first-rate — he  's  a  real  clever  fellow." 

"He  may  be  clever  enough,  but  I  do  not  think  he  is 
a  very  good  associate  for  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston. 

"  Who  ought  to  know  best  about  that,  you  or  I  ?" 
said  Oscar,  with  a  pertness  for  which  he  was  becoming 
a  little  too  notorious.     "I  see  Alf  every  day,  but  you 


DINNER 


93 


don't  know  hardly  anything  about  him.  At  any  rate, 
I  'Jl  risk  his  hurting  me." 

Oscar's  grandmother  looked  at  him  with  astonish- 
ment, as  he  uttered  these  words.  He  felt  the  silent  re- 
buke, and  turned  his  head  from  her. 

"  Well,"  added  Mrs.  Preston,  "  if  Alfred  is  not  a  bad 
boy  himself,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  kind  of  people 
you  spend  so  much  of  your  time  with,  around  the  hotel- 
stable,  will  do  either  you  or  him  any  good.  The  lessons 
a  boy  learns  among  tavern  loungers  do  not  generally 
make  him  any  better,  to  say  the  least.  I  wish  you 
would  keep  away  from  such  places — I  should  feel  a 
good  deal  easier  if  you  would." 

The  subject  was  dropped,  and  dinner, — the  event  of 
Thanksgiving-day,  in  every  New  England  home, — soon 
began  to  engross  the  attention  of  the  household.  It 
was  a  pleasant  feast,  to- old  and  young.  The  children 
forgot  all  their  little,  fanciful  troubles,  and  the  traces  of 
care  were  chased  from  their  parents'  brows  for  the  hour. 

The  afternoon  was  stormy,  and  the  children  amused, 
themselves  with  in-door  sports.  After  tea,  however,  Os- 
car asked  his  father  for  some  money,  to  buy  a  ticket  to 
an  entertainment  that  was  to  take  place  in  the  evening. 


I 


94  SITTING     IN      THE      DARK. 

But  both  his  parents  thought  he  had  better  stay  at 
home,  with  the  rest  of  the  family,  and  he  reluctantly 
yielded  to  their  wishes,  coupled  with  the  promise  of  a 
story  or  two  fj'om  his  grandmother,  about  old  times. 

A  cheerful  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate,  when  the 
family  retui-ned  to  the  parlor,  from  the  tea-table.  The 
lamps  were  not  yet  lit,  although  the  gray  twilight  was 
fast  settling  down,  and  the  ruddy  coals  began  to  reflect 
themselves  from  the  polished  furniture.  Mrs.  Pieston 
was  about  to  light- the  lamps,  when  Ella  exclaimed: 

"  No,  no,  mother,  don't  light  the  lamps — let  's  sit  in 
the  dark  awhile,  and  then  grandmother's  stories  will 
seem  twice  as  romantic.  You  don't  want  a  light,  do 
you,  grandmother  ?" 

"No,"  said  the  grandmother,  "I  can  talk  just  as  well 
in  the  dark.  But  I  don't  know  as  I  can  tell  you  any 
very  interesting  stories.  I  can't  think  of  anything  now 
but  what  you  have  already  heard.  That 's  just  the  way 
when  I  want  to  tell  a  story.  If  I  was  all  alone,  I 
should  think  of  lots  of  things  to  tell  you." 

"  Can't  you  tell  us  something  about  the  Indians  ? — I 
like  to  hear  about  them,"  said  Oscar. 

"  You  would  like  to  know  how  they  served  naughty 


THE     INDIAN     REMEDY.  95 

boys,  M'oiild  n't  you  ?"  inquired  Lis  grandmother ;  and 
if  the  room  had  not  been  quite  so  dark,  Oscar  Avould 
have  seen  somethino^  like  a  rof^uish  twinkle  in  her  sober 
gray  eye,  as  she  spoke. 

"0  yes,  grandmother,"  interrupted  Ella,  "that  will 
suit  him,  I  know.  At  any  rate,  it  ought  to  interest  him 
— so  please  to  tell  us  what  they  did  to  their  bad  boys, 
and  perhaps  we  shall  learn  how  to  serve  Oscar." 

"And  while  you  are  about  it, grandmother,"  said  Os- 
car, "tell  us  what  they  did  to  naughty  girls,  too." 

"I  don't  know  how  they  punished  girls,"  said  the  old 
lady  ;  "  but  I  have  heard  it  said  that  when  they  wished 
to  punish  a  boy  very  severely,  they  made  him  lie  down 
on  the  ground,  upon  his  back.  They  then  put  their 
knees  on  his  arms,  and  held  his  head  back,  while  they 
took  into  their  mouth  some  very  bitter  stuff,  made  from 
the  roots  of  a  certain  plant,  and  squirted  it  into  the 
boy's  nose.  They  kept  repeating  the  dose,  till  the  poor 
fellow  was  almost  strangled,  and  I  suppose  by  that  time 
he  was  cured  of  his  fault." 

"  Pooh,  was  that  all  ?"  said  Oscar  ;  "  I  thought  some- 
thing terrible  was  coming." 

"  I  guess  you  would  not  like  to  try  the  Indian  reme- 


Mb  AN     INDIAN      STORY. 

dy  more  than  once,"  replied  his  mother ;  "  but  if  you 
think  it  is  so  pleasant  to  take,  perhaps  your  father  will 
give  you  a  taste  of  it,  one  of  these  days,  if  you  do  not 
behave  better  than  you  have  done  of  late." 

''  Did  you  ever  get  frightened  by  the  Indians,  grand- 
mother?" inquired  Ralph. 

"  No,"  replied  the  old  lady ;  "  there  were  plenty  of 
them  around,  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  but  they  had  got 
to  be  quite  civil,  and  we  were  not  afraid  of  them.  I 
wish  I  could  remember  all  the  stories  my  mother  used 
to  tell  me  about  them — they  were  plenty  and  trouble- 
some, too,  in  her  day.  T  recollect  one  fight  that  took 
place  in  our  neighborhood,  W'hen  she  was  young.  One 
evening,  a  man  who  was  returning  from  another  settle- 
ment, happened  to  discover  a  party  of  Indians,  making 
their  way  very  quietly  up  the  river  in  their  canoes,  to- 
wards our  little  village.  He  watched  their  movements 
as  narrowly  as  possible,  but  was  careful  not  to  let  them 
see  or  hear  him.  When  they  got  within  about  half  a 
mile  of  the  settlement,  they  pulled  their  iPoes  ashore, 
and  concealed  them  among  the  bushes..  )y  meant 

to   creep  along  very  slowly  and  slily,  uZ  the 

way,  and  then  fall  suddenly  upon  the  whites,  and    nur 


THE      STRATAGEM.  97 

der  and  plunder  them  before  they  could  know  what 
the  matter  was.  But  the  man  who  discovered  them 
hurried  on  to  the  settlement,  and  gave  the  alarm.  Ten 
men  was  all  he  could  muster,  for  there  were  but  a  few 
families  in  the  town.  These  men  armed  themselves, 
and  by  the  time  they  were  ready  for  action,  the  Indians 
had  already  begun  their  work  of  plunder. 

"But  the  Indians  were  not  cunning  enou|^i  for  the 
"white  folks,  that  time.  The  settlers  formed  themselves 
into  two  parties — one  of  seven  and  one  of  three  men. 
The  three  men  went  down  very  cautiously  to  the  In- 
dian's landing-place,  and  after  cutting  slits  in  their  baik 
canoes,  they  hid  themselves,  and  awaited  the  result. 
While  they  were  doing  this,  the  other  party  made  such 
a  furious  and  sudden  attack  upon  the  enemy,  that  the 
Indians  thought  they  were  assailed  by  a  force  far  supe- 
rior to  their  own,  and  so- they  fled  as  fast  as  they  could. 
When  they  reached  the  landing-place,  they  jumped 
pell-mell  into  their  canoes,  and  pusbed  out  into  the 
stream.  Now  they  thought  they  would  soon  be  out  of 
the  reach  of  harm;  but,  to  their  astonishment,  the 
canoes  began  to  fill  with  water,  and  were  entirely  un- 
manageable.    The  three  men  in  ambush  now  beo-an  to 


98  ANOTHER      STORY. 

attack  tliem,  and  pretty  soon  the  other  seven  came  to 
their  aid,  and  in  a  little  while  the  Indians  were  all  shot 
or  drowned,  and  not  one  of  the  party  escaped,  to  inform 
their  kindred  what  had  befallen  them.  The  stream  on 
which  this  happened  is  called  Laplot  River.  Laplot, 
they  say,  means  'the  plot,'  and  a  good  many  people 
think  the  river  got  its  name  from  the  stratagem  of  the 
settlers,  bpt  I  don'tknow  how  that  is." 

After  musing  awhile  in  silence,  Ralph  called  foi 
another  story. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  his  grandmother;  "did  I  ever 
tell  you  about  Widow  Storey's  retreat,  in  the  Revo- 
lution ?" 

"No  ma'am,"  said  Oscar;  "I've  read  about  Gen- 
eral Bargoyne's  retreat ;  but  I  never  heard  of  Widow 
Storey  before :  who  was  she  ?" 

"  O,  it  wasn't  that  kind  of  a  retreat  that  I  meant," 
said  his  grandmother;  "but  I  will  tell  you  who  she 
was.  She  lived  in  Salisbury,  some  twenty  or  thii'ty 
miles  from  where  I  belong.  Her  husband  was  the 
first  man  who  settled  in  Salisbury,  but  he  was  very 
unfortunate.  After  he  had  woilced  hard,  and  got  a 
loQT  cabin  ready  for  his  family,  it  took  fire,  and  waf 


■WIDOW      STOREY 


99 


destroyed  ;  and  he  himself  was  killed  by  the  fall  of 
a  tree,  soon  after.  But  his  widow  w^as  a  very  smart 
-woman ;  and  though  she  had  eight  or  ten  small 
chiidj'en,  she  moved  on  to  the  place  her  husband  had 
selected ;  and  the  pi'oprietors  of  the  township  gave 
her  a  hundred  acres  of  land  to  encourage  and  reward 
her.  She  worked  just  like  a  man,  and  didn't  mind 
chopping  down  trees,  and  cultivating  the  _^soil,  with 
her  own  hands.  But  by-and-bye  the  Revolution 
broke  out,  and  as  there  were  British  soldiers  in  the 
neighborhood,  she  was  afraid  they  would  make  her 
a  visit.  She  tied  several  times  to  another  town,  where 
there  was  less  danger  ;  but  after  awhile  a  new  idea 
entered  her  head,  and  she  proceeded  to  cairy  it  out, 
with  the  aid  of  a  man  who  lived  near  her.  The  idea 
was,  to  construct  a  hiding-place,  where  the  British 
could  not  find  them,  if  they  should  pay  her  a  visit. 
They  selected  a  spot  on  Otter  Creek,  find  dug  a  hole 
right  into  the  bank,  horizontally.  The  hole  was  a 
little  above  the  water,  and  was  just  large  enough 
for  a  person  to  crawl  into.  It  was  so  coveied  up  by 
bushes  that  hung  from  the  bank,  that  a  stranger 
would   not   notice   it.     This   passage   led   to    a   largo 


100  THE     RETREAT. 

lodging-room,  the  bottom  of  which  was  covered  with 
straw.  Good  comfortable  beds  were  prepared,  and 
here  the  families  found  a  secure  retreat,  until  the 
danger  was  past." 

"  That  was  complete,"  said  Oscar  ;  "  but  I  should 
think  the  British  might  have  tracked  them  to  their 
retreat,  for  it  's  likely  they  had  to  go  home  pretty 
often,  to  get  food,  and  look  after  things." 

"  Yes,"  added  his.  grandmother  ;  "  but  they  reached 
their  retreat  by  a  canoe,  so  that  no  footsteps  could 
be  seen  leading  to  it ;  and  they  wei'e  careful  not  to 
go  out  or  in  during  the  day-time.  I  have  heard  my 
brother  James  tell  about  it.  I  believe  he  saw  the 
very  hole  once,  where  they  went  in." 

"  Uncle  James  was  a  famous  hand  for  telling 
stories,"  remarked  Mrs.  Preston.  '•'  I  shall  never 
forget  what  a  treat  it  was  to  me,  when  I  was  a 
child,  to  have  him  come  to  our  house.  I  used  to 
run  out  and  meet  him,  when  I  saw  him  coming, 
and  coax  him  to  tell  me  a  good  lot  of  stories  before 
he  went  off.  I  can  remember  some  of  them  even 
now.  He  used  to  tell  a  story  of  a  crabbed  old  fel- 
low,    who    was     very    much     annoyed   by  the  boys 


OLD      ZIGZAG.  101 

stealing  bis  apples.  So,  after  awliile,  he  got  a  spring- 
trap,  and  set  it  under  tlie  trees,  to  catcli  the  young 
rogues.  But  the  boys  got  wind  of  the  affi^ir,  and 
the  first  night  he  set  it,  they  picked  it  up,  and  very 
quietly  put  it  on  his  door-step,  and  then  went  back 
to  the  orchard,  and  began  to  bellow  as  though  tliey 
were  in  great  distress.  The  old  man  heard  the  up- 
roar, and  started  out,  in  liigh  glee  at  the  idea  of 
catching  his  torrnenters ;  but  he  hardly  put  his  foot 
out  of  the  door,  before  he  began  to  roar  himself, 
and  he  was  laid  up  a  month   with  a  sore  leg." 

"That  was  old  Zigzag,"  said  the  grandmother;  "I 
knew  him  very  well." 

*'01d  Zigzag! — what  a  funny  name!"  exclaimed 
Ralph. 

"  That  was  n't  his  name,  although  he  always  went 
by  it,"  added  the  old  lady.  "  He  was  a  very  odd  char- 
acter, and  one  of  his  peculiarities  was,  that  he  never 
walked  directly  to\Yards  any  place  or  object  he  wished 
to  reach,  but  went  in  a  '  criss-cross,'  zigzag  way,  like  a 
ship  beating  and  tacking  before  a  head-wind.  He  was 
a  hard  drinker,  and  was  almost  continually  under  the 

influence  of  liquor,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  cause  of 
9* 


102  A     SAD     END. 

his  singular  habit.  He  was  a  terribly  ugly  fellow, 
when  he  was  mad,  and  the  boys  used  to  tease  him  in 
every  possible  way ;  but  wo  to  them  if  he  got  hold  of 
them.  He  lived  all  alone,  for  he  never  had  any  wife  or 
children ;  and  he  would  not  allow  anybody  to  enter  his 
house,  on  any  account,  but  always  kej^t  the  door  locked. 
If  his  neighbors  had  business  to  transact  with  him,  he 
would  step  into  the  yard  and  attend  to  them ;  'but  even 
in  the  severest  weather,  he  would  not  let  them  cross  his 
threshold.  He  never  would  speak  to  or  look  at  a  wo- 
man, and  would  always  avoid  meeting  them,  if  possi- 
ble. Poor  fellow,  he  had  a  dreadful  end.  He  w^as 
missing  for  several  days,  and  at  last  some  of  the  town's- 
people  broke  into  his  house,  and  found  him  dead,  with 
his  head,  badly  burned.  They  supposed  he  was  intoxi- 
cated, and  fell,  striking  his  head  upon  the  andiron, 
which  stunned  him ;  and  while  he  lay  helpless,  he  was 
so  badly  burned  that  he  soon  died.  And  that  was  the 
last  of  poor  old  Zigzag." 

"There  was  another  story  Uncle  James  used  to  tell, 
about  the  naming  of  Barre,  in  Vermont ;  do  you  recol- 
lect it,  mother  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Preston. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  and  I  We  heard  old  Dr.  Paddock  tell 


I 


NAMING     A     TOWN 


103 


it  many  a  time.  He  was  there,  and  saw  it  all.  The 
people  did  n't  like  the  name  of  their  town,  which  was 
"Wildersburgh,  and  determined  to  have  a  new  one, 
and  so  they  met  together  in  town-meeting,  to  talk  the 
matter  over.  One  of  the  leading  men  came  from 
Barre,  Massachusetts,  and  he  wanted  the  town  to  take 
that  name.  Another  prominent  citizen  came  from 
Holden,  Massachusetts,  and  he  insisted  that  the  town 
should  be  called  Holden.  The  people  liked  both  of 
these  names  well  enough,  and  it  was  finally  determined 
that  the  question  should  be  decided  by  a  game  of  box- 
ing, between  these  two  men.  So  the  meeting  adjourned 
to  a  new  barn,  with  a  rough  hemlock  plank  floor,  and 
the  contest  commenced.  After  boxing  awhile,  one  of 
them  threw  the  other  upon  the  floor,  and  sj^rang  upon 
him  at  full  length ;  but  the  one  who  was  underneath 
dealt  his  blows  so  skilfully,  that  his  opponent  soon 
gave -in;  and  rolling  the  Holden  man  out  of  the  way, 
he  jumped  up  and  shouted,  '  There,  the  name  is  Barre  1' 
and  Barre  it  has  been,  to  this  day.  The  next  day,  the 
man  who  won  this  victory  had  to  call  on  the  doctor  to 
extract  from  his  back  the  hemlock  splinters  he  had  re- 
ceived while  struggling  on  the  barn  floor." 


104  A     PLteASANT     TIME. 

m  Thus  the  evening-  was  beguiled  Avitli  stones,  mingled 
with  a  few  songs  by  Alice  and  Ella,  and  a  few  favorite 
airs  upon  the  piano-forte.  Before  the  hour  of  retiring 
arrived,  even  Oscar  was  quite  reconciled  to  the  loss  of 
the  evening's  entertainment  away  from  home  which  he 
had  promised  himself. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


GRANDMOTHER 


ll/TRS.  LEE,  the  grandmother  of  the  Preston  children, 
remained  with  the  family  for  several  weeks,  after 
Thanksgiving.  Her  visit  was,  on  the  whole,  a  pleasant 
one,  though  there  were  some  shadows  thoughtlessly- 
cast  over  it  by  the  children.  Age  had  somewhat  im- 
paiied  her  sense  of  hearing,  but  yet  she  always  wanted 
to  understand  everything  that  was  said  in  her  presence. 
Often,  when  the  children  were  talking  to  each  other  in 
a  low  tone,  she  would  ask  them  what  they  were  saying. 
Ella  did  not  like  these  interruptions,  and  was  the  first 
to  complain  of  them. 

"O  dear,"  said  she,  one  day,  "I  do  wonder  what 
makes  grandmother  so  inquisitive.  I  really  believe  she 
thinks  we  are  talking  about  her  all  the  time.  I  can't 
open  my  mouth,  but  she  wants  to  know  what  I  said. 
Don't  you  think  she  is  getting  childish,  Alice  ?" 


106 


ALICE      AND     ELLA. 


"  Why,  Ella  1"  exclaimed  Alice,  in  astonisliment ; 
"I  sbould  think"  yoLi  would  be  ashamed  to  speak 
so  of  your  poor  old  grandmother.  .  What  do  you 
tliink  mother  would  say  if  she  knew  wLat  you  said  ?" 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  replied  Ella  ;  "  I  don't  see  why 
grandmother  need  be  so  curious  about  every  little 
tbing  that  's  said.  I  mean  to  ask  ber  some  time 
when    I  have  a   good  cbance." 

"  I  sbould  tbink  you  bad  better,  Miss  Impudence," 
said  Alice ;  "  perhaps  she  would  like  to  have  you 
give    ber    some    lessons    in    good    bebavior." 

Alice  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose  tbat  ber 
sister  meant  to  speak  to  their  grandmother  upon 
tbis  subject.  But  sbe  bad  miscalculated  the  pert- 
ness  of  Ella.  A  day  or  two  after  this,  as  several  of 
tbe  children  were  talking  among  themselves,  tbe  at« 
tention  of  tbe  old  lady  was  arrested.  She  could  not 
bear  distinctly  wdiat  they  said,  but  Oscar  took  a 
prominent  i^art  in  tbe  conversation  ;  and  a  moment 
after,  on  bis  leaving  tbe  room,  sbe  asked  Ella  wbat 
be  wanted. 

"  O,  it  w^as  n't  anytbing  tbat  you  care  about, 
grand  ma'am,"    replied    Ella. 


RUDENESS.  107 

"Is  tbat  the  way  your  mother  teaches  you  to 
answer  questions,  Ella  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Lee,  in  a 
mild,    reproachful   tone. 

"  No,  no,  grandmother,"  replied  Alice,  with  con- 
siderable earnestness  ;  "  I  shall  tell  mother  how  im- 
pudently she  spoke  to  you.  A  boy  has  given  a 
little  dog  to  Oscar,  and  that  was  what  he  was  tell- 
ing us  about,  just  before  he   went  out." 

"Why,  grandmother,"  added  Ella,  "I  didn't  mean 
to  be  impudent;  but  I've  noticed  that  you  always 
want  to  hear  what  everybody  says,  even  when  they 
are  not  talking  to  you,  and  mother  says  that  is  n't 
polite." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  my  .  dear "  replied 
her  grandmother,  very  meekly ;  "  after  I  have  taken 
a  few  more  lessons  from  you,  perhaps  I  shall  know 
how  to  behave." 

The  feelings  of  the  old  lady  were  more  hurt  by 
the  rudeness  of  Ella,  than  her  mild  rebukes  indicated. 
Alice  felt  bound  |x).  inform  her  mother  of  what  had 
taken  place ;  and  Mrs.  Preston  was  greatly  mortified, 
on  learning  that  her  little  daughter  had  spoken  so 
impudently  to  her  aged  mother.     She  apologized  for 


108  SHAME. 

Ella,  as  well  as  she  could,  by  saying  that  she  was 
naturally  forward  and  impulsive.  At  noon,  when 
the  children  returned  from  school,  she  called  Ella 
into  a  room  by  herself,  and  talked  with  her  about 
her  conduct.  At  first,  Ella  tried  to  justify  herself; 
but  after  awhile  her  better  nature  triumphed,  and 
she  felt  heartily  ashamed  of  her  treatment  of  her 
grandmother.  To  think  .that  she,  a  girl  eleven  years 
old,  should  have  attempted  to  teach  her  aged  grand- 
mother politeness,  and  in  such  an  uncivil  way,  too  ! 
No  wonder  she  hung  her  head  in  shame. 

To  be  candid,  perhaps  Ella's  grandmother  was  a 
little  too  inquisitive  to  know  what  was  going  on 
around  her.  But  this  was  one  of  the  infirmities  of 
old  age  which  were  slowly  stealing  upon  her,  and 
which  the  young  should  regai-d  with  pity  and  for- 
bearance,  but  never  with  a  censorious  spirit. 

Ella  was  really  a  good-hearted  girl,  when  her 
generous  feelings  were  aroused.  From  that  day,  she 
treated  her  grandmother  with  marked  kindness  and 
respect ;  and  her  unfortunate  attempt  to  rebuke  the 
venerable  woman  was  never  alluded  to  again. 

Among  the  articles  which  Mrs.  Lee  brought  from 


POPPING     CORN.  109 

the  country,  for  the  children,  was  a  small  bag  of 
corn  for  popping.  One  evening,  George  happened 
to  think  of  this  corn,  which  none  of  them  had  yet 
tried ;  and  partly  filling  one  of  his  pockets  froni  the 
bag,  he  slipped  quietly  into  the  kitchen,  and  com- 
menced popping  it  by  Bridget's  fire.  There  was  no 
person  in  the  kitchen  but  himself,  and  putting  a  hand- 
full  of  corn  in  the  wire  popper,  it  soon  began  to  snap 
and  jump  about,  the  hard,  yellow  kernels  bursting 
forth  into  light  and  beautiful  milk-white  balls.  But 
by-and-bye  the  savory  odor  of  the  corn  found  its 
way  up  stairs,  and  Ella  and  Ralph  ran  down  to  get 
their  share  of  the  treat.  George  had  put  the  corn 
upon  the  table  to  cool,  as  fast  as  it  was  popped  ;  but 
when  he  heard  footsteps  approaching,  he  scrambled 
it  into  his  pocket  as  quick  as  possible. 

"  Halloo,  popped  corn !  Give  me  some,  Georgie, 
won't  you?"  said  Ralph.      . 

"  And  me,  too,"  added  Ella. 

"No  I  shan't,  either,"  said  George;  "I  popped  it 
for  myself." 

"You're  real  stingy,"  replied  Ella;  "but  no  mat- 

10 


110  SELFISHNESS. 

ter,  Ralpli  and  I  will  pop  some  for  ourselves.  Where 
is  the  bng?" 

"You  must  find  it  for  yourselves — I  had  to,"  was 
George's  selfish  reply,  as  he  gathered  the  last  of  his 
popped  corn  into  his  pocket,  badly  burning  his  fin- 
gers, in  his  anxiety  lest  his  brother  oi  sister  should 
get  hold   of  a  kernel  or  two. 

Ella  and  Ralph  commenced  searching  for  the  bag 
of  corn,  but  they  could  not  find  it.  They  looked 
in  every  place  where  they  supposed  it  might  be, 
but  in  vain.  Their  mother  had  gone  to  bed  widi  a 
sick  headache,  or  they  would  have  ascertained  where 
it  was  from  her.  At  length  they  gave  up  the  search, 
and  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  in  no  very  pleasant 
frame  of  mind. 

"I  do  declare,  George,"  said  Ella,  "you  are  the 
meanest  boy  I  ever  heard  of." 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  George?"  inquired 
his  grandmother, 

"He  's  been  popping  some  of  the  corn  you  gave 
us,"  replied  Ella ;  "  and  he  won't  give  us  a  kernel 
of  it,  nor  tell  us  where  the  bag  is,  so  that  we  can 
pop  some  for  ourselves." 


BAD      TEMPER.  Ill 

"Why,  George,"  said  Mrs.  Lee,  "that  is  too  bad; 
I  would  tell  them  where  the  corn  is,  for  I  intended  it 
as  much  for  them  as  for  you." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  George ;  "  they  've  called  me 
mean  and  stingy,  and  now  they  may  find  it  for  them- 
selves." 

"  We  did  n't  call  you  mean  and  stingy  till  you 
refused  to  tell  us  where  it  was,"   added  Ella. 

"  If  I  could  find  it,  I  guess  you  would  n't  get 
another  kernel  of  it,"  said  Ralph,  addressing  George ; 
"  I  'd  burn  it  all  up  first." 

"  No,  no,  Ralph,  that  is  wrong,"  replied  his  grand- 
mother. "  The  corn  is  n't  worth  quarrelling  about. 
If  George  wants  to  be  selfish,  and  keep  it  all  to  him- 
self, I  '11  send  down  some  more  for  the  rest  of  you, 
when  I  go  home.  But  I  guess  Georgie  does  n't  mean 
to  be  selfish,"  she  added,  coaxingly;  "he  only  wants 
to  plague  you  a  little,  that 's  all.  He  '11  tell  you 
where  he  found  the  corn,  pretty  soon." 

George,  who  was  growing  uneasy  under  this  com 
bined  attack,  now  retreated  to  bed,  leaving  his  grand- 
mother more  astonished  than  ever  at  his  obstinacy. 

"  There,"  said  Alice,  "  it 's  of  no  use  to  try  to  drive 


112 

or  coax  him  out  of  his  selfishness.  Mother  says  he  '11 
outgrow  it  by-and-bye,  but  I  don't  see  as  there  is  any 
prospect  of  it.  You  know  what  made  him  so  selfish, 
don't  yoi.1,  grandmother  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  he  has  been  humored  too  much,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Lee. 

"  Well,  he  has  been,"  added  Alice ;  "  but  you  know 
when  he  was  little,  he  was  very  sick  for  a  whole  year, 
and  the  doctor  said  he  must  n't  be  crossed  any  more 
than  we  could  help,  for  crying  and  fretting  were  very 
bad  for  him.  So  he  had  his  own  way  in  everything, 
and  if  wc  children  had  anything  he  wanted,  we  had  to 
give  it  to  him,  and  let  him  break  it  to  pieces,  for  he 
would  scream  as  loud  as  he  could,  if  we  refused  him. 
This  was  the  way  he  got  to  be  so  selfish ;  and  now  he 
thinks  we  must  humor  him  just  as  we  did  when  he  was 
sick." 

"There  is  some  little  excuse  for  him,  if  he  fell  into 
the  habit  when  he  was  very  young  and  sick,"  observed 
Mrs.  Lee ;  "  but  he  is  old  enough  and  well  enough  now 
to  know  better,  and  ought  to  be  broken  of  the  fault." 

"  Father  and  mother  have  tried  to  break  him  of  it," 
replied  Alice,  "  but  they  have  not  succeeded  very  well 


113 

yet.  They  have  talked  to  him  a  good  deal  about  it, 
but  it  does  no  good." 

The  next  day,  the  children  found  the  bag  of  corn, 
and  their  mother  told  George  she  should  punish  him 
for  his  selfishness  by  not  letting  him  have  any  more  of 
it.  The  corn  was  accordingly  divided  among  the  other 
children,  and  thus  George,  in  trying  to  get  more  than 
his  share,  actually  got  less  than  the  others  did. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Oscar  came  into  posses- 
sion of  the  pup  which  Alfred  Walton  had  promised  him 
two  or,  three  weeks  before.  He  at  first  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  obtaining  the  consent  of  his  mother  to  bring  it 
home.  She  thought  it  would  be  troublesome,  and  tried 
to  dissuade  him  fvom  taking  it ;  but  Oscar's  heart  was 
so  strongly  set  upon  the  dog,  that  she  at  length  reluct- 
antly assented  to  its  being  admitted  as  an  inmate  of  the 
family. 

Fastening  a  string  to  the  neck  of  the  dog,  Oscar  led 
him  to  his  new  home,  where  he  received  every  atten- 
tion from  the  younger  members  of  the  family.  Quite  tL 
grave  discussion  at  once  ensued,  as  to  what  the  name 
of  the  new-comer  should  be.    Each  of  the  children  had  a 

favorite  name  to  propose,  but  Oscar  rejected  them  all, 
^  10* 


•*• 


114 


PORTRAIT      OF      TIGER. 


and  said  the  dog  should  be  called  "Tiger;"  and  so  that 
became  his  name,  but  it  was  usually  abbreviated  to 
"Tige." 

Tiger  had  grown  very  rapidly,  and  was  now  about 
twice  as  large  as  he  was  when  Alfred  promised  Oscar 


one  of  his  litter  of  pups.  He  was  a  handsome  fellow, 
especially  about  the  head,  as  you  may  see  by  his  por- 
trait. At  times,  he  looked  as  old  and  grave  as  his 
mother ;  but  for  all  that,  he  was  a  great  rogue,  and 
there  was  very  little  dignity  or  soberness  about  him. 


HIS      CHARACTER.  115 

Hb  was  brira-full  of  fun,  and  would  play  with  anybody 
or  anything  that  would  allow  him  to  take  that  liberty. 
He  would  amuse  himself  for  hours  with  an  old  shoe  or 
rag  that  he  had  found  in  the  street,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
he  never  would  get  tired  of  shaking,  and  tearing,  and 
biting  it.  This  disposition  sometimes  led  him  into  mis- 
chief, in  the  ho^use  ;  but  he  was  always  so  happy,  so 
good-natured  and  so  affectionate,  that  it  was  difficult  to 
blame  him  very  hard  for  his  misconduct.  If  Oscar's 
grandmother  happened  to  drop  her  ball  of  yarn,  when 
Tige  was  about,  he  would  seize  it  in  an  instant,  and  she 
would  have  to  work  hard  to  get  it  away  fi-om  him. 
She  kept  her  work  in  a  bag,  which  she  usually  hung 
upon  the  back  of  a  chair ;  but  one  day,  the  little  rogue 
pulled  the  bag  down  upon  the  floor,  and  had  its  various 
contents  scattered  all  about  the  room,  before  the  old 
lady  noticed  what  he  was  doing. 

These  mischievous  pranks  were  very  amusing  to  Os- 
car, and  he  set  all  the  more  by  Tiger,  on  account  of  this 
trait  in  his  character.  The  other  members  of  the  fami- 
ly, too,  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport  he  made;  and  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  even  old  Mrs.  Lee,  though  she  pretend- 
ed to  be  angry  with  the  dog  for  his  mischievousness, 


116  A     TRICK. 

was  in  reality  pleased  with  the  attentions  he  bestowed 
upon  her  and  her  knitting-work. 

Oscar's  grandmother  usually  retired  to  her  chamber, 
soon  after  dinner,  to  take  a  short  nap.  One  noon,  after 
she  had  been  scolding,  with  assumed  gravity,  about  the 
dog's  mischievousness,  Oscar  thought  he  would  play  a 
joke  upon  the  old  lady ;  so,  on  rising  from  the  dinner- 
table,  he  carried  Tiger  up  to  her  bed-room,  and  shut 
him  in.  He  wanted  to  conceal  himself  somewhere,  and 
witness  the  surprise  of  his  grandmother,  when  she 
should  open  the  door,  and  the  dog  should  spring  upon 
her;  but  it  was  time  to  go  to  school,  and  he  could  not 
wait. 

It  so  happened  that  Mrs.  Lee  did  not  take  her 
nap  so  early  as  usual  that  day.  When  she  did  go 
to  her  chamber.  Tiger,  impatient  of  his  long  con- 
finement, sprang  out  so  quickly,  that  she  did  not 
observe  him.  But  such  a  scene  as  met  her  gaze 
on  entering  the  chamber !  The  first  thing  that 
caught  her  eye,  was  her  best  black  bonnet  lying 
upon  the  floor,  all  crumpled  'up  and  torn  into  shreds, 
lookinof  as  thouo-h  it  had  been  used  for  a  football 
by   a   parcel    of  boys.     She   entered   the   room,   and 


SAD     WORK. 


117 


found  a  dress  upon  the  floor,  witli  numerous  marks 
of  rough  handling  upon  it ;  while  towels  and  other 
articles  were  scattered  about  in  confusion.  The  cloth 
upon  the  dressing-table  had  been  pulled  off,  and  the 
articles  that  were  kept  upon  it  were  lying  upon  the 
floor,  including  a  handsome  vase,  which,  in  the  fall, 
had  been  shattered  to  pieces.  There  was  in  the 
chamber  a  stuffed  easy-chair,  the  covering  of  which 
was  of  worsted-work,  wrought  by  Mrs.  Preston  when 
she  was  a  young  girl.  This  chair,  which  was  highly 
valued  as  a  relic  of  the  past,  was  also  badly  injured. 
A  part  of  the  needle-work,  which  had  cost  so  many 
hours  of  patient  toil,  was  torn  in  every  direction, 
and  some  of  the  hair,  with  which  the  cushion  was 
stufl:ed,  was  pulled  out,  and  scattered  about  the 
floor. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Lee  had  fully  comprehended  the 
extent  of  the  mischief,  she  went  to  the  stair-way, 
and  called  her  daughter.  A  glance  satisfied  Mrs. 
Preston  that  Tiger  must  have  been  there  ;  and  she 
was  confirmed  in  this  belief  by  Bridget,  who  re- 
membered that  the  dog  came  down  into  the  kitchen, 
just   after    Mrs.  Lee  went   up.     But  they  could  not 


118  Oscar's    falsehood. 

tell  how  the  little  rogue  got  shut  into  the  room. 
They  concluded,  however,  that  some  of  the  children 
did  it  by  accident,  or  that  the  dog  slipped  in  unper- 
ceived  when  Mrs.  Lee  came  out  from  the  chanaber 
before  dinner. 

Oscar  did  not  go  directly  home  from  school,  but 
as  soon  as  he  entered  the  house,  he  learned  what 
Tiger  had  done,  from  the  other  children.  He  felt 
sorry  that  what  he  intended  as  a  harmless  joke, 
should  end  in  so  serious  a  matter;  but  he  deter- 
mined that  no  one  should  know  he  had  a  hand  in 
it,  if  he  could  prevent  it.  He  regretted  the  destruc- 
tion of  property,  but  this  feeling  did  not  cause  him 
so  much  uneasiness  as  his  fear  of  losinof  his  dog-  in 
consequence  of  this  bad  afternoon's  woi'k.  His 
mother,  as  soon  as  she  saw  him,  inquired  if  he  had 
been  to  his  grandmother's  chamber  that  noon.  Ho 
replied  that  he  had  not.  She  inquired  if  he  let 
Tiger  into  it,  and  he  answered  in  the  negative.  His 
mother  questioned  him  still  further,  but  he  denied 
all  knowledge  of  the  matter. 

It  was  not  very  hard  work  for  Oscar  to  tell  a  lie, 
now,  for  practice  makes  easy.     He  could  do  it,  too, 


DISOBEDIENCE.  119 

in  such  a  plausible  and  seemingly  innocent  way,  that 
it  was  difficult  to  believe  he  was  deceiving  you.  His 
falsehoods,  in  this  instance,  were  readily  believed ; 
and  as  all  the  other  children  denied  having  any 
knowledge  of  the  affair,  it  was  the  geneial  conclusion 
that  Tiger  must  have  obtained  admittance  to  the 
chamber  accidentally  and  unperceived. 

"When  Mr.  Preston  came  home  to  tea,  and  saw 
what  the  dog  had  done,  he  was  very  angry  with  poor 
Tiger,  and  told  Oscar  he  must  sell  him  or  give  him 
away,  for  he  would  not  have  such  a  mischievous  an- 
imal about  the  house  another  day.  A  day  or  two 
after,  Mrs.  Preston  replaced  the  articles  belonging 
to  her  mother  that  had  been  injured,  and  the  ex- 
citement about  the  dog  soon  died  away.  Oscar 
did  not  try  to  get  lid  of  his  pet ;  but  he  was  careful 
not  to  let  him  stay  in  the  house  much  of  the  time, 
especially  when  his  father  was  at  home. 

*'  Oscar,"  said  his  grandmother  a  day  or  two  after, 
as  he  came  into  the  kitchen  with  Tiger,  "I  thought 
your  ftither  told  you  he  would  n't  have  that  dog 
around  here  any  more." 

"0,  he  didn't  mean  so,"  replied  Oscar;  "he  was 


120  A      COLLISION. 

mad  when  he  said  that,  but  he  's  got  over  it  now. 
Besides,  I  don't  let  Tige  stay  in  the  house  much." 

"  A  good  dale  ye  cares  for  what  yer  father  says," 
remarked  Bridget,  who  was  never  backward  about 
putting  in  a  word,  when  Oscar's  delinquencies  were 
the  subject  of  conversation. 

"  You  shut  up,  Bridget, — nobody  spoke  to  you,"  re- 
plied Oscar. 

"Shet  up,  did  ye  say  ?  Faith,  if  ye  don't  git  shet  up 
yerself  where  ye  won't  git  out  in  a  hurry,  afore  ye  're 
many  years  older,  it  '11  be  because  ye  don't  git  yer 
desarts.     Ye  're  a  bad  b'y,  that  ye  are,  an' — " 

"There,  there,  Biddy,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Lee,  "I 
would  n't  say  anything  more — it  only  aggravates  him, 
and  does  no  good.  But,  Oscar,"  she  added,  "  I  'm 
sorry  you  don't  pay  more  attention  to  what  your  father 
says.  It  's  a  bad  habit  to  get  into.  I  knew  a  disobe- 
dient boy,  once,  who  came  to  the  gallows ;  and  I  've 
known  several  others  who  made  very  bad  men." 

"  But  you  don't  call  me  disobedient,  do  you,  grand- 
ma'am  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"I  don't  know  what  else  to  call  it,"  she  replied,  "if 
your  father  tells  you  to  do  a  thing,  and  you  take  no  no- 
tice of  it." 


MRS.    lee's    departure.  121 

*'Bat  father  does  n't  want  me  to  give  Tige  away — 
I  don't  believe  lie  's  thono-ht  of  it  a^rain  since  that 

o  o 

night." 

"  Then,  if  I  were  you,"  replied  his  grandmother,  "  I 
would  ask  his  consent  to  keep  the  dog.  If  he  did  n't 
mean  what  he  said,  that  night,  you  will  be  safe  enough 
-^in  asking  him." 

But  this  was  a  kind  of  reasoning  that  Oscar  could 
not  appreciate.  If  he  could  carry  his  point  just  as  well 
^ithout  his  father's  formal  consent,  he  thought  it  was 
useless  to  ask  any  such  ffxvor.  As  long  as  he  could 
keep  his  dog,  it  was  all  the  same  to  him  whether  his 
father  withdrew  his  command,  or  silently  acquiesced  in 
his  disobedience  of  it. 

But  grandmother  Lee's  visit  .was  drawing  to  a  close, 
and  early  one  briglit,  cool  morning,  in  the  latter  part 
of  December,  the  coach  called,  to  take  her  to  the  rail- 
road depot ;  and  after  a  few  kisses,  and  words  of  affec- 
tionate advice,  and  lingering  good-byes,  she  departed  on 
her  homeward  journey.  Of  those  she  left  behind,  next 
to  her  own  daughter,  the  saddest  of  the  group  was  little 
Ella,  who,  for  many  days,  missed  the  pleasant  face  of 

her  good  old  grandmother. 

11 


CHAPTER  IX. 


WINTER      SPORTS 


TT  was  LOW  mid-winter,  and  a  few  inches  of  snow 
lay  upon  the  frozen  ground,  sufficient  to  make 
pretty  fair  sleighing  for  a  few  days,  and  to  aftbrd 
good  coasting  for  the  boys  on  the  hill-sides.  The 
favorite  place  for  this  amusement,  among  the  boys 
in  Oscar's  neighborhood,  was  the  Common.  Here 
they  always  found  good,  long,  smooth  coasting- 
places,  when  there  was  any  snow  on  the  ground ; 
and  there  was  no  danger  of  tripping  up  foot  pas- 
sengers, or  getting  under  the  heels  of  the  horses, 
or  being  tapped  on  the  shoulder  by  a  policeman, 
which  often  happened  to  boys  who  coasted  down 
the  steep  streets  of  the  city, — a  practice,  by  the 
way,  prohibited  by  a  city  law. 

Oscar   had   a   handsome   new   sled,   which   was    a 
new   year's   present    from   his   father.      It   was    long 


THE      CLIPPER.  123 

and  narrovr,  tlie  two  steel-shod  runners  projecting 
forward  far  beyond  the  top  or  seat,  and  ending  in 
sharp  points.  It  was  painted  light  blue,  and  var- 
nished. Upon  the  sides,  in  gilt  letters,  was  its 
name — Clipper  ;  and  upon  its  top  it  bore  the  initial 
of  Oscar's  name,  with  an  ornamental  device.  It  had 
what  a  sailor  would  call  a  decidedly  rakish  look, 
and  was  really  a  fast  as  well  as  a  stylish  "team,"  to 
use  the  term  by  which  Oscar  usually  spoke  of  it.  It 
^even  eclipsed  George's  small  but  elegant  sled,  which, 
the  winter  previous,  had  been  regarded  as  the  ne 
plus  ultra  of  sled  architecture. 

Ralph's  sled,  by  the  side  of  these,  presented  a  very 
cheap  and  antiquated  appearance,  and  it  was  seldom 
that  he  took  it  with  him  to  the  Common.  He  often 
borrowed  Oscar's,  however,  when  it  was  not  in  use*. 
for  his  elder  brother,  with  all  his  faults,  was  not 
selfish  boy,  but  was  wilhng  to  lend  his  property  to 
others,  when  he  was  not  using  it  himself.  One 
pleasant  Wednesday  afternoon,  a  portion  of  the  week 
always  devoted  to  recreation  by  the  Boston  school 
children,  Ralph  obtained  leave  to  take  the  "  Clipper" 
with  him    to  the    Common.     George  also   went  with 


124  COASTING     SCENE. 

him.  with  his  sled.  The  coasting  is  very  good,  and 
some  hundreds  of  boj's  are  enjoying  it.  Long  lines 
of  sleds,  freighted  with  from  one  to  three  or  four 
juveniles,  are  dashing  down  in  various  directions 
from  the  Beacon  Street  mall ;  and  an  odd  collection 
of  juveniles  and  sleds  it  is,  too.  There  comes  a 
chubby,  red-faced  lad,  with  his  exact  counterpart, 
on  a  smaller  scale,  clinging  on  behind  him  with 
one  hand,  and  swinging  his  cap  with  the  other.  Their 
sled  is  called  the  "  Post-Boy,"  and  it  seems  to  "  carry 
the  malea''''  very  expeditiously.  Close  at  their  heels 
is  a  pale,  poetic  youth,  lightly  skimming  over  the 
inclined  plane  upon  a  delicate  craft  that  looks  like 
himself,  and  which  he  calls  the  "  Mystery."  Here 
comes  a  rude,  unpainted  sled,  with  two  rough  but 
merry  youngsters  lying  prone  upon  it,  one  over 
the  other,  and  their  heels  working  up  and  down 
in  the  air  in  a  most  lively  manner.  Anon  goes 
by  an  aristocratic-looking  craft,  bearing  upon  it  a 
sleek  and  well-dressed  boy,  w^hose  appearance  speaks 
of  wealth,  indulgence,  and  ease.  His  sled  is  appro- 
priately named  the  "Pet;"  but  in  gliding  down 
the   icy   track   it   strikes   a    tree,    and   its   pampered 


A      COLLISION.  125 

owner   is   sent   sprawling   upon    bis  back,  in    a  very 

undignified    way,    while    Lis    "  Pet"    gives     him    the 

slip   and   soon   finds   the    bottom    of   the   hill.     Poor 

fellow !    Ave    wonder  if  this   is    an    omen    of  what  is 

to  befall  him  in  sliding  down  the  hill  of  life.     And 

here    comes    the    "  Clipper"    itself,    with    our    Ralph 

seated  proudly  upon  it,  and  apparently  enjoying  the 

fleet   and   beautiful   sled  as  much   as  though   it  Avere 

really  his  own.     And  there,   too,  comes  George,  Avith 

his  pretty  "  SnoAV  Flake  ;"  and  close  behind  him   are 

the  "  Tempest,"  and   the  "  Yankee   Doodle,"   and   the 

"  Screamer,"   and   the  "  Snow  ball,"  and  the  "  Nelly," 

and  the  "  Racer,"  and  a  host  of  other  craft,  of  every 

imaginable  a2)2)earance,  and  strided  by  all  sorts  of  boys. 

Ralph  and  George  spent  an  hour  or  two  upon  the 

Common.     J^othing  occurred  to  mar  their  pleasure  till 

just  before  they  started  for  home,  when  Ralph  met  Avith 

an  adventure   that-  sadly  ruffled  his  temper.     He  Avas 

descending  the  hill  upon  his  sled,  Avhen  another  craft, 

having  two  boys  upon  it  larger  than  himself,  managed 

to  run  into  him.     The  "Clipper"  being  lightly  loaded, 

the  other  sled  descended  Avith  greater  impetus;  and  the 

force  of  the  collision,  together  Avith  a  vigorous  kick  from, 
11* 


126  DAMAGES      SUSTAINED. 

the  stout  boots  of  one  of  the  boys,  overturned  Ralph 
•  upon  the  steepest  part  of  the  hill.  He  quickly  picked 
himself  up,  and,  forgetful  of  self,  his  first  care  was  to 
see  whether  Oscar's  sled  had  sustained  any  damage. 
When  he  beheld  the  marks  of  the  rough  encounter,  in 
the  form  of  sundry  ugly  scratches  upon  the  polished 
sides  of  the  '•  Clipper,"  the  tears  came  in  his  eyes;  and 
it  was  some  time  before  he  noticed  that  he  himself  bore 
upon  his  hands  and  knees  several  unmistakable  tokens 
of  the  collision. 

Ralph  knew  very  well  that  the  collision  was  not  acci- 
dental. The  kick  of  the  boy  who  guided  the  sled,  and 
the  hearty  laugh  of  both  its  occupants,  when  Ralph  was' 
overturned,  satisfied  him  that  he  had  been  run  down 
purposely.  He  did  not  know  the  names  of  the  boys, 
having  only  met  them  occasionally  on  the  Common. 
They  soon  came  along  again,  on  their  way  up  the  hill, 
and  Ralph  asked  the  owner  of  the  sled  why  he  run  him 
down. 

"Because  you  got  in  our  way,"  renlied  the  boy. 

"No,  I  did  n't,"  said  Ralph;  "there  was  room 
enough  for  you  to  go  by,  but  you  steered  out  of  your 
course,  and  gave  my  sled  a  kick,  too." 


INSOLENCE.  127 

"Don't  you  tell  me  I  lie,  you  little  snipper-snapper," 
answered  the  boy  "or  I  '11  put  you  in  my  pocket,  and 
carry  you  off." 

"  See  what  you  did,"  continued  Ralph,  pointing  to 
the  scratches  on  the  "Clipper;"  "I  should  n't  care  any- 
thing about  it,  but  the  sled  is  n't  mine.  I  borrowed  it 
of  my  brother,  and  it  had  n't  a  scratch  on  it  when  I 
took  it." 

"  Pooh,"  said  the  other  boy,  "  that  does  n't  hurt  it 
any.  I  '11  be  bound  it  will  be  scratched  worse  than 
that,  before  the  winter  's  over.  If  you  get  in  my  way 
with  it  again,  I  shall  serve  it  worse  than  I  did  this 
time." 

The  boys  passed  on  their  way,  and  Ralph  and 
George,  whose  "fun"  had  been  thus  suddenly  and  un- 
justly spoiled  by  their  insolent  and'  domineering  com- 
panions, concluded  to  return  home.  Poor  Ralph  dread- 
ed to  meet  Oscar ;  but  yet  he  hunted  him  up,  as  soon 
as  he  got  home,  and  told  him  what  had  befallen  the 
beautiful  sled.  Oscar  was  very  angry  when  he  heard 
the  story,  but  he  generously  acquitted  his  brother  of  all 
blame  in  the  matter,  and  declared  that  he  would  pay 
back  the  boy  who  had  thus  taken  advantage  of  his 


128 

weakness.  He  knew  the  offender,  from  Ralph's  de- 
scription, and  from  the  name  of  his  sled,  which  was  the 
*'  Corsair."  He  even  proposed  to  go  directly  to  the 
Common,  and  settle  the  account  at  once ;  hut  Ralph,  ia 
whose  heart  revenge  held  a  very  small  place,  persuaded 
him  out  of  the  notion. 

But  Oscar,  unlike  Ralph,  was  not  the  boy  to  forget 
or  forgive  an  injury.  A  day  or  two  after  the  occur- 
rence just  related,  while  coasting  on  the  Common,  he 
fell  in  with  the  boy  wdio  run  into  his  brother.  Keeping 
his  eye  upon  him  until  he  could  catch  him  a  little  aside 
from  the  other  boys,  when  the  favorable  moment  came, 
he  suddenly  dealt  him  a  severe  blow,  which  nearly 
knocked  him  over,  accompanying  it  with  the  remark  : 

"There,  take  that  for  running  down  my  little  brother, 
when  he  was  coasting  with  my  sled,  the  Other  day." 

The  other  boy,  without  saying  a  woid,  sprang  at  Os- 
car, and.  for  a  moment  or  two,  blows  and  kicks  were 
freely  exchanged.  But  though  they  were  about  of  a 
size,  it  was  evident  that  Oscar  was  the  stronger  or  most 
resolute  of  the  two,  and  his  antagonist  soon  gave  up 
the  contest,  but  not  until  he  had  been  pretty  roughly 
bandied.     Other  boys  soon   came  flocking  around,  to 


SKATING.  129 

whom  Oscar  explained  the  cause  of  the  assault ;  but  his 
antagonist  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  affair  for  which 
Oscar  had  attacked  him.  An  angry  war  of  words  en- 
sued, but  the  excitement  finally  subsided  without  any 
further  resort  to  blows,  and  Oscar  returned  home,  well 
pleased  with  his  adventure. 

One  of  Oscar's  favorite  winter  amusements  was  ska- 
ting. Early  in  winter,  as  soon  as  the  little  pond  on  the 
Common  was  frozen  over,  he  might  be  seen  gliding 
over  the  smooth  ice ;  but  later  in  the  season,  when  there 
was  good  skating  on  "Back  I3ay,"  he  preferred  that 
locality,  because  of  its  greater  extent.  Tiger  usually  ac- 
companied him  in  his  skating  excursions,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  sport  as  much  as  his  master  did.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  him  try  to  make  a  short  turn,  in  run- 
ning upon  the  ice.  He  would  slide  some  distance  be- 
fore he  could  change' his  course.  Oscar  would  often 
plague  him,  when  he  was  in  full  chase  after  his  master, 
by  suddenly  turning  upon  his  skates,  and  taking  a  con- 
trary direction,  leaving  Tiger  to  get  back  as  he  could. 

But  an  event  happened,  one  day,  that  almost  wholly 
cured  Tiger  of  his  fondness  for  this  kind  of  sport.  He 
was  gaily  tripping  over  the  ice,  by  the  side  of  his  young 


130  tiger's    cold    bath. 

master,  when  the  latter  suddenly  turned  about,  and 
Tiger,  in  his  haste  to  follow  him,  slid  directly  into  an 
air-hole.  This  was  probably  the  first  time  he  had  en- 
joyed so  extensive  a  cold  bath  ;  and  as  he  was  not  a 
water-dog,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  was  terribly 
frightened.  His  piteous  cries  brought  Oscar  to  his  re- 
lief, who  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  sorry  plight  in 
which  he  found  his  half-drowned  canine  friend.  He 
was  floundering  and  paddling  about  in  the  water,  now 
lifting  himself  almost  out,  upon  the  edge  of  the  ice,  ?md 
now  slipping  off  again,  and  plumping  over-head  in  the 
uncomfortable  element;  his  intelligent  countenance,  in 
the  meantime,  wearing  the  impress  of  despair.  But 
Oscar  soon  helped  him  from  his  disagreeable  position. 
Finding  himself  on  his  legs  again,  he  did  not  resume 
his  sport;  but,  shivering  with  cold,  and  dripping  with 
water,  almost  "at  the  freezing  point,  and  with  his  head 
hanging  downward,  and  his  tail  drooping  between  his 
leo's,  he  started  towards  home — a  wiser  and  a  sadder 
dog. 

When  Oscar  got  home,  he  found  the  family  some- 
what alarmed  for  his  own  safety.  Tiger  had  arrived 
some  time  before,  and  as  it  was  evident  that  he  had 


AIR-HOLES.  131 

been  overboard,  and  as  he  was  l^:nown  to  have  gone 
off  with  his  master,  Mis.  Preston  felt  some  anxiety,  not 
knowing  but  that  both  Oscar  and  the  dog  had  broken 
through  the  ice.  But  his  airival  dispelled  all  fears, 
and  his  account  of  Tiger's  misfortune  served  to  amuse 
the  children  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  As  for  Tiger  him- 
self, he  seemed  heartily  ashamed  of  the  i:)art  he  had 
played,  and  could  hardly  be  persuaded  to  leave  the 
chimney-corner  for  a  moment,  or  even  to  look  up,  when 
the  children  inquired  for  his  health. 

"  I  don't  see  what  good  ftir-holes  do.  I  wonder 
if  anybody  knows  what  they  are  for,"  exclaimed 
Ealph,  as  the  children  and  their  mother  were 
seated  around  the  sitting-room  table  in  the  even- 
in  o^. 

"  They  are  traps  set  to  catch  skaters,  I  suppose," 
said  Oscar. 

"And  dogs,"  added  Ella. 

"  But  don't  you  know  what  they  are  for,  Alice  ?" 
continued  Ralph.,- 

"  Yes,"  replied  Alice,  who  had  studied  natural 
philosophy  at  school,  "they  are  the  breathing  holes 
of    the   fishes.      Fishes   can't   live    without    air,    any 


132  WHAT      MAKES      AIR-HOLES. 

better  than  we  can  ;  and  a  pond  or  river  frozen  over 
solid,  witliout  any '  air-holes,  would  be  as  bad  for 
them  as  a  room  from  which  all  fresh  air  was  shut 
out  would  be  to  us.  You  can  sometimes  catch  fish 
very  easily  by  cutting  a  hole  in  the  ice,  for  if  they 
feel  the  need  of  air,  they  will  rusli  right  up  to  the 
opening."        »    * 

"  But  how  are  the  air-holes  made  ?"  inquired 
Ralph. 

"  I  believe,"  replied  Alice,  "  that  they  are  gener- 
ally made  by  springs  that  bubble  up  from  the  bot- 
tom. These  spiings  come  from  the  earth,  and  the 
water  is  so  warm  that  it  gradually  thaws  the  ice 
over  them.  The  fish  often  finish  the  process  by 
jumping  up  through  the  ice  before  it  has  entirely 
melted.  When  the  cold  is  very  intense,  and  these 
springs  have  frozen  up,  some  of  the  water  is  ab- 
sorbed by  the  earth,  which  leaves  a  vacuum  or 
empty  space  between  the  ice  and  the  water ;  and 
then  the  ice  gives  way  under  the  weight  of  the  at- 
mosphere, and  air  is  admitted  into  the  water  be- 
neath." 

"Well,  I  'm  glad  air-holes  are  good  for  something," 


TIGER      A      WISER      DOG.  133 

said  Oscar ;  "  they  're  troublesoiiie  enongli  to  skaters. 
Jim  Anderson  skated  right  into  one  the  other  day, 
and  came  pretty  near  getting  drowned.  But  I  always 
keep  my  eyes  open  for  them.  I  never  got  into  one 
yet." 

"  You  cannot  be  too  careful  when  you  are  on  the 
ice,"  remarked  Mrs.  Preston.  "I  felt  so  uneasy,  that 
I  was  just  going  to  send  Ralph  in  search  of  you, 
when  you  got  home." 

After  that  day  it  required  considerable  coaxing  to 
induce  Tiger  to  go  upon  the  boys'  skating-ground. 
He  manifested  a  decided  preference  to  remain  upon 
the  shoie,  and  look  on  ;  and  when  he  did  venture  to 
accompany  his  master,  he  kept  close  by  his  side,  and 
travelled  over  the  treacherous  ice  with  a  degree  of 
circumspection,  which  said  very  plainly,  "  You  won't 
catch  me  in  that  scrape  again,  master  Oscar  I" 

But  there  was  nothing  that  the  boys  enjoyed  more 
at  this  season  of  the  year,  than  a  real  good  snow- 
storm. Such  a  storm  they  were  favored  with  during 
this  month.  It  came  on  in  the  evening,  and  the  next 
morning,    when    they   arose,   their   basement   windows 

were  more   than   half  buried   up   in   snow,    and   th« 
12 


134  THE      SNOW-STORM. 

drifts,  in  some  places,  were  higher  than  Oscar's 
head.  The  streets  were  deserted  and  almost  impass- 
able. Thick  crusts  of  snow  hung  over  the  roofs 
of  the  long  blocks  of  houses ;  while  the  blinds,  win- 
dows, doors  and  balustrades  were  heavily  trimmed 
with  the  same  delicate  material.  The  huge  banks 
which  stretched  themselves  along  the  street  and  side- 
walk, were  as  yet  undisturbed  ;  for  the  few  pass«rs-by 
had  been  glad  to  pick  their  way  through  the  valleys. 
The  wind  roared  and  piped  among  the  chimneys 
and  house-tops,  and  whisked  through  narrow  pass- 
age-ways, and  whistled  through  the  smallest  cracks 
and  crevices,  in  its  merriest  and  busiest  mood.  JN^ow 
it  would  scoop  up  a  cloud  of  snow  from  the  street, 
and  bear  it  up  far  above  the  house-tops,  and  then  it 
would  repay  the  debt  by  gathering  a  fleecy  wreath 
from  some  neighboring  roof,  and  sweeping  it  into 
the  street  beneath.  The  storm  still  continued  with 
unabated  seveiit}^,  and  the  air  was  so  full  of  snow, 
that  one  could  hardly  see  the  length  of  the  street. 

After  a  hasty  breakfast,  the  boys  tucked  the  bot- 
toms of  their  trowsers  into  their  boots,  and  sallied 
forth,   to   explore  the   half-buried    streets.     And   now 


A     JOB      FOR      OSCAR.  135 

the  light  snow  balls  began  to  fly  thick  and  ftist,  and 
every  few  moments,  one  and  another  would  measure 
his  full  length  in  some  deep  drift,  which  for  a  mo- 
ment abiiost  buried  him  from  sight.  Tiger,  who 
accompanied  them,  entered  fully  into  the  sport,  and 
very  good-naturedly  received  his  share  of  the  snow- 
balls and  snow-baths.  But  their  exercise  was  too 
violent  to  be  continued  a  great  while.  They  soon 
returned  home,  coated  with  snow  from  head  to  heel, 
and  the  cheeks  of  the  boys  glowing  with  health  and 
enjoyment. 

"  After  you  get  rested,  Oscar,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  who 
was  just  leaving  for  the  store,  "I  want  you  to  shovel  a 
path  in  front  of  the  house." 

"What  is  the  use?"  inquired  Oscar.  "The  storm 
is  n't  over  yet,  and  if  I  make  a  path,  it  will  fill  right 
up  again." 

"No  it  won't,"  replied  his  father.  "I  don't  think  it 
will  storm  much  longer;  and  the  snow  is  so  light,  now, 
that  you  can  shovel  it  easily,  but  if  you  leave  it  till 
noon,  it  may  be  trodden  down  hard.  You  need  not 
clean  off  the  whole  side-walk  now ;  only  make  a  com- 


136  SHOVELING      SNOW. 

fortable  passage-way,  and  perhaps  I  will  help  you  finish 
the  job  at  night." 

Oscar  still  thought  it  w^ould  be  a  waste  of  labor  to 
shovel  a  path  then,  and  he  did  not  evince  any  haste  in 
obeying  his  father's  order.  After  loitering  about  the 
house  a  long  time,  he  took  the  shovel,  and  worked 
lazily  at  the  path  for  awhile.  Although  he  only  under- 
took to  cut  a  narrow  passage-way  through  the  drift  in 
front  of  the  house,  he  worked  with  so  little  spirit, 
that  when  the  time  came  for  him  to  get  ready  for 
school,  he  had  not  half  completed  the  task.  He  asked 
permission  to  stay  at  home  and  finish  his  path,  but  his 
mother  did  not  think  this  necessary,  and  refused  her 
consent.  So  he  went  to  school,  and  in  the  meantime 
the  storm  died  awa}'-,  and  the  clouds  dispersed. 

Towards  noon  the  door-bell  rano-  and  on  Biido-et 
going  to  answer  it,  a  little  printed  paper  was  handed 
to  her,  directing  the  occupant  of  the  house  to  have  the 
snow  removed  from  his  sidewalk  within  a  a'iven  num- 
ber  of  hours.  After  school,  Oscar  thought  no  more 
of  his  path,  but  went  off  with  Alfred  Walton,  and  did 
not  go  home  until  dinner-time.  He  had  but  little 
time  now  to  shovel  snow  ;  but  his  father  told  him  to 


ICY     SIDEWALKS.  137 

be  sure  and  come  home  directly  from  school,  in  the 
afternoon,  and  not  to  play  or  do  anything  else  until 
the  sidewalk  was  cleared  off. 

Oscar  accordingly  went  home  after  school,  and  re- 
sumed his  work.  He  found  that  the  snow  was  trodden 
into  such  a  solid  icy  mass,  that  an  axe  was  necessary 
to  cut  it  up  in  some  places.  He  was  not  the  boy  to 
hurt  himself  with  hard  labor,  and  although  he  kept  his 
shovel  at  work  in  a  leisurely  way,  he  did  not  accom- 
plish much,  except  the  removal  of  a  little  snow  that 
had  not  got  trodden  down.  Wearied  at  length  with 
his  feeble  and  fruitless  efforts,  he  returned  into  the 
house,  saying  to  his  mother  : 

"There,  I  can't  get  the  snow  off  the  sidewalk,  and 
it's  of  no  use  to  try.  It's  trodden  down  just  as  hard 
as  ice.  Besides,  if  I  should  shovel  it  all  off,  there  will 
be  an  avalanche  from  the  top  of  the  house  to-night, 
that  will  bury  the  sidewalk  all  up  again.  The  snow  is 
sliding  off  the  roofs,  all  around  here ; — have  n't  you 
heard  it,  mother  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  thought  I  heard  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston  ; 

"  but  if  you  can't  get  the  snow  off  the  sidewalk,  you 

had  better  speak   to  your  father  about   it,  when   he 
12* 


138  EXCUSES. 

comes  liorae,  and  perhaps  lie  will  help  you,  or  hire 
somebody  to  do  it  for  you.  It  must  be  got  off  as  soon 
as  possible,  for  the  police  have  notified  us  to  attend  to  it." 

In  spite  of  this  advice,  Oscar  neglected  to  speak  to 
his  father  in  regard  to  the  matter,  and  no  one  else  hap- 
pening to  think  of  it,  nothing  was  said  about  it.  The 
next  morning,  he  chopped  aw^ay  upon  the  ice  a  little 
while,  but  getting  tired  of  it,  he  soon  abandoned  the 
job,  and  went  to  play.  When  Mr.  Pj-eston  came  home 
to  dinner,  an  unusual  cloud  was  on  his  brow  ;  and  as 
soon  as  Oscar  came  in,  the  cause  was  explained. 

"  Oscar,"  he  said,  "  why  did  you  not  shovel  the  snow 
from  the  si<iewalk,  as  I  told  you  to,  yesterday  morning?" 

"  I  ti  ied  to,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  but  it  was  trodden  down 
so  hard,  I  could  n't  get  it  off." 

"  But  you  should  have  done  it  before  it  got  hard- 
ened. I  told  you  to  clear  a  passage-way,  yesterday  morn- 
ing. That  would  have  saved  the  rest  from  getting  trod 
down,  and  at  noon  you  could  have  finished  the  job. 
Why  did  you  not  do  as  I  told  you  to  ?" 

"  I  did  begin  to  make  a  path,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  but 
I  did  n't  have  time  to  finish  it,  and  when  I  got  home 
from  school,  the  snow  was  all  trodden  down  hard." 


THE      lASK      COMPLETED.  139 

"  Did  n't  have  tine  ?"  said  bis  father  ;  "  what  do  you 
tell  me  such  a  story  as  that  for?  You  could  have 
made  all  the  path  that  was  necessary  in  fifteen  or 
twenty  minutes,  if  you  had  been  disposed  to  do  it 
By  neglecting  to  obey  me,  you  have  got  me  into  a 
pretty  scrape.  I  have  had  to  go  before  the  Police 
Court,  this  forenoon,  and  pay  a  fine  and  costs,  amount- 
ing to  over  five  dollars,  for  your  negligence  and  dis- 
obedience. And  now,"  he  added,  "you  may  try  once 
more,  and  see  if  you  can  do  as  I  teil  you  to.  As  soon 
as  you  have  done  dinner,  take  the  hatchet  and  shovel, 
and  go  to  work  upon  the  sidewalk;  and  don't  you 
leave  it  until  the  ice  is  all  cleared  oflf.  As  sure  as  you 
do,  I  will  dust  your  jacket  for  you  when  I  come  home 
to-night,  so  that  you  will  not  forget  it  for  one  while." 

Oscar  thought  it  best  to  obey  his  father  this  time. 
It  being  Saturday,  school  did  not  keep,  in  the  after- 
noon, and  be  bad  ample  time  to  complete  the  task, 
although  it  was  time  which  he  intended  to  spend  in  a 
liflferent  way.  Ralph,  however,  volunteered  his  assist- 
ance, and  before  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  tbe  task 
was  finished.  ^ 


CHAPTER  X. 


APPEAR  A  NCES, 


ri'^HOSE  who  impose  upon  the  weak,  sometimes  get 
punished,  for  their  meanness  in  an  unexpected  man- 
ner. This  truth  was  very  effectually  impressed  upon 
Oscar,  one  March  morning,  as  he  was  going  to  school. 
The  streets  were  in  a  very  bad  condition,  being  several 
inches  deep  with  a  compound  of  snoNv,  water,  and  mud, 
familiarly  known  as  "  slosh."  Just  before  reaching  the 
school-house,  he  overtook  two  little  boys  with  a  sled, 
and  throwing  himself  upon  it,  he  compelled  them  to 
drag  him  along.  It  was  hard  sledding,  and  the  boys 
naturally  objected  to  drawing  such  a  heavy  load  ;  but 
Oscar  kept  his  seat,  and  compelled  them  to  go  on. 
For-  a  few  minutes,  he  rode  along  very  quietly,  although 
his  span  of  youngsters,  who  were  continually  muttering 
to  themselves,  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  the  sport  as  well 
as  he  did.    But,  by  a  dexterous  movement,  they  soon 


1^   . 


OVERTURN. 


141 


balanced  the  debtor  and  creditor  account.  Giving  the  sled 
a  sudden  jerk  and  lurch,  in  one  of  the  sloppiest  places 
they  had  met  with,  their  lazy  passenger  was  thrown 
backward  into  the  mud,  and  imprinted  a  full-length 


^<^5i^5*it5e;^ 


picture  of  himself  in  the  yielding  material.  The  inci- 
dent happened  almost  in  front  of  the  school-house,  and 
as  Oscar  rose  from  the  mud,  he  was  greeted  by  the 


143  A     SAD     PLIGHT. 

shouts  and  laughter  of  a  hundred  boys  who  witnessed 
the  scene.  Several  men,  also,  who  were  passing  at 
the  time,  joined  in  the  laughing  chorus ;  and  one,  who 
had  observed  the  whole  affair  from  the  beginning,  told 
Oscar  the  boys  had  served  him  just  right. 

Ralph  came  to  the  relief  of  his  brother,  and  having 
wiped  off  as  much  of  the  mud  and  water  from  his  back 
as  he  could,  with  a  handkerchief,  Oscar  started  for 
home,  wet  to  his  skin.  He  was  keenly  sensitive  to  any 
mortification  of  this  kind,  and  it  was  a  bitter  pill  for 
him  to  appear  in  the  crowded  streets  in  such  a  plight. 
He  imagined  everybody  he  met  or  overtook  was  star- 
ing at  him,  and  laughing  at  the  figure  he  cut,  and  he 
wanted  to  hide  his  face  from  their  sight.  He  never 
went  home  from  school  so  fast  before  ;  but  when  he  had 
changed  his  dress,  and  washed  the  dirt  from  his  hands 
and  face,  it  was  too  late  to  return.  In  the  afternoon, 
when  he  made  his  appearance  at  school,  he  was  quite 
generally  greeted  with  the  significant  nickname  of 
"  Stick-in-the-mud,"  and  had  to  stand  a  most  remorse- 
less fire  of  wit,  pleasantry,  and  ridicule  the  rest  of  the 
day,  both  at  home  and  in  the  street. 

Oscar  thought  quite  as  much  as  was  proper  of  out- 


THE      PATCHED      JACKET.  143 

ward  appearances.  He  was  comraendably  neat  in  his 
personal  habits,  and  was  seldom  caught  with  dirty 
hands  and  face,  or  uncombed  hair,  or  soiled  and  ragged 
dress.  He  loved  to  dress  well,  too,  and  no  amount  of 
persuasion  could  induce  him  to  wear  a  garment,  if  he 
fancied  it  did  not  set  right,  or  was  much  out  of  fashion, 
or  had  an  old  and  patched-up  look.  In  such  a  case, 
nothing  but  the  stern  arm  of  authority  was  sufficient 
to  overcome  his  prejudices. 

"  There,"  said  his  mother  one  evening,  after  spending 
some  time  over  one  of  his  jackets,  which  had  become  a 
little  worn  at  the  elbows  ;  "  there,  that  will  last  you  a 
spell  longer,  and  look  almost  as  well  as  it  ever  did^ 
too." 

Oscar  examined  the  garment.  It  was  neatly  mend- 
ed, and  looked  very  well ;  but  his  eye  rested  upon  a 
slight  patch  upon  one  of  the  elbows,  which  entirely 
spoilt  it  for  him,  although  it  had  previously  been  a 
favorite  garment. 

"  It 's  too  small  for  me,"  he  said  ;  "  why  can't  you 
keep  it  for  Ralph?" 

"No,  you  need  n't  keep  it  for  Ralph,"  quickly  re- 
plied the  owner  of  that  name ;  "  I  have  n't  had  any- 


144  BEN.      WR  I  G  H  T. 

thing  but  your  old  clothes  to  wear  for  a  j^ear  or  two, 
and  I  should  lliink  it  was  my  turn  to  have  some  of 
the  new  ones,  now.  Make  him  wear  that  out,  mother, 
won't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  intend  he  shall  wear  it  awhile  longer,''  re- 
plied Mrs.  Preston.  "It  looks  well  enough  for  any- 
body." 

"But  see  that  detestable  patch,"  said  Oscar;  "I 
don't  want  to  wear  that  to  school ;  folks  will  think  I 
have  borrowed  one  of  Ben.  Wright's  old  jackets." 

Ben.  Wright  was  one  of  Oscar's  schoolmates.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  poor  widow,  and  was  the  most  be- 
patched  boy  in  Oscar's  class,  at  the  head  of  which  he 
stood.  As  he  had  nothing  to  recommend  him  but 
fine  scholarship,  exemplary  deportment,  and  a  good 
character,  in  school  and  out,  he  was  a  boy  of  little  con- 
sequence in  the  eyes  of  Oscar. 

"  I  wish  you  were  worthy  to  wear  one  of  Benny's 
old  jackets,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston.  "  If  you  were  half 
as  good  a  boy  as  he  is,  I  would  not  complain.  But 
you  need  not  be  afraid  that  anybody  will  mistake  you 
for  him,  even  if  you  do  wear  a  patched  garment." 
•  *'  I  believe  you  think  Ben.  Wright  is  a  little  angel," 


AN      OMINOUS     NOD.  145 

said  Oscar,  who  never  liked'  to  hear  his  humble  but 
diligent  classmate  praised. 

"  I  think  he  has  some  traits  that  you  would  do  well 
to  imitate,''  replied  his  mother. 

"  I  shall  think  I  am  imitating  him,  when  I  get  that 
thing  on,"  added  Oscar,  in  a  contemptuous  manner, 
alluding  to  the  jacket. 

"  There,  that  will  do,  Oscar,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston. 
"  You  Ve  said  enough  about  the  jacket ;  don't  let  me 
hear  another  word  of  complaint.  I  took  a  great  deal 
of  pains  to  mend  it  neatly,  and  it  looks  well  enough 
for  you  or  any  other  boy.  You  may  put  it  on  to-mor- 
row morning,  and  don't  you  leave  off  wearing  it  till  I 
tell  you  to." 

Oscar  nodded  his  head  in  a  way  that  seemed  to  say, 
"You'll  see  how  long  I  wear  it ;"  but  his  mother  did 
not  observe  the  motion.  He  had  a  short  and  easy  way 
of  getting  rid  of  garments  that  he  disliked.  Somehow 
or  other  they  were  sure  to  waste  away  in  a  much  faster 
manner  than  those  he  had  a  fancy  for ;  or,  perhaps, 
they  would  be  rendered  suddenly  useless,  by  some  mys- 
terious accident.  But  he  would  never  admit  that  their 
13 


146  A      WATCH     WANTED. 

period  of  usefulness  had  been  purposely  shortened,  though 
suspicions  of  this  kind  were  occasionally  hinted. 

Soon  after  this,  Mr.  Preston  entered  the  room,  and 
took  a  seat  by  the  fire.  He  pulled  out  his  watch  to 
wind  it  up,  as  was  his  custom  just  before  bed-time, 
when  Oscar  said  : 

"  Father,  I  wish  you  would  buy  me  a  watch.  Fi-ank 
King,  and  Bill  Andrews,  and  Charlie  Grant,  and  almost 
all  the  large  boys  that  I  know,  have  got  watches,  and  I 
should  think  I  might  have  one  too  ;  why  can't  I, 
father?" 

"  What  do  they  do  with  watches  ?"  inquired  Mr. 
Preston. 

"Why,  what  does  anybody  do  with  them?  They 
carry  them  to  tell  the  time  of  day,  of  course,"  replied 
Oscar. 

"  And  to  make  a  display  of  watch-chain,"  added  his 
father. 

*'  No,  that  is  n't  it,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  but  it 's  real 
convijnient  to  have  a  watch  with  you.  You  don't 
know  how  I  'm  plagued  to  tell  what  time  it  is,  some- 
times. It  would  make  me  a  good  deal  more  punc- 
tual, if  I  had  one.     I  was  late  to  school  this  morning, 


PUNCTUALITY.  147 

but  it  was  n't  my  fault,  for  I  did  n't  know  what  time 
it  was  until  I  got  to  the  school-house,  and  found  that 
the  boys  had  all  gone  in." 

"  When  I  was  of  your  age,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  "  boys 
never  thought  of  carrying  watches,  and  yet  they  were 
taught  to  be  as  punctual  as  the  clock,  in  their  attend- 
ance at  school.  If  I  had  been  tardy,  and  tried  to  ex- 
cuse myself  by  saying  that  I  had  no  watch,  I  should 
have  got  laughed  at  by  the  whole  school.  But  where 
were  you  this  morning,  that  you  did  not  know  when  it 
was  school-time  ?" 

"  Over  to  Alf.  Walton's." 

"  And  could  n't  find  a  time-piece  about  the  prem- 
ises r 

"  Why — no — I — forgot — "  replied  Oscar,  somewhat 
embarrassed  by  the  question. 

"Just  as  I  supposed,"  added  his  father;  "you  got 
along  with  that  boy,  and  forgot  all  about  your  school; 
and  it  would  have  been  just  the  same,  if  you'd  had 
half  a  dozen  watches  in  your  pocket." 

"  O  no,  father,"  said  Oscar ;  "  for  if  I  'd  had  a  watch 
about  me,  I  should  have  looked  at  it." 

"  Well,"  added  Mr.  Preston,  "  if  you  don't  care  enough 


148  APPEARANCES. 

about  punctuality  to  take  a  little  trouble  to  ascertain 
what  time  it  is,  when  you  have  an  engagement,  I 
don't  think  a  watch  would  help  you  any  in  acquiring 
the  habit.     You  have  n't  made  out  a  very  strong  case." 

"  No,"  remarked  Mrs.  Preston,  "  he  wants  a  watch 
for  show,  and  not  punctuality, — that's  plain  enough. 
He  has  just  been  making  a  great  fuss  because  I  put 
a  little  bit  of  a  patch  on  the  elbow  of  his  jacket.  He 
is  getting  to  be  quite  fastidious,  for  a  gentleman  of  his 
size." 

"If  you  would  think  a  little  less  of  outside  appear- 
ances, Oscar,"  continued  his  father,  "  and  a  little  more 
of  inward  character,  your  judgment  of  men  and  things 
would  not  be  quite  so  much  at  fault  as  it  is  now.  If 
you  judge  of  boys  or  men  by  the  cloth  and  watches 
they  wear,  and  select  your  companions  accordingly, 
you  will  soon  find  that  you  have  got  a  jDretty  set  of 
friends.  And  so,  too,  if  you  think  you  can  secure  the 
good  opinion  and  respect  of  the  world,  merely  by  dress- 
ing v/ell,  you  are  greatly  mistaken.  You  must  learn 
to  judge  people  by  their  characters,  and  not  by  their 
dress  or  appearance.  If  I  could  see  you  trying  to  form 
a  good  character,  I  should  care  very  little  what  sort 


AN      OFFER.  149 

of  garments  you  wore.  I  would  buy  you  a  watcL,  or 
anything  else  in  my  power,  if  it  would  only  make  you 
behave  better.  In  fact,  I  will  make  you  a  handsome 
offer  now,  if  you  wish." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  I  will  agree  to  give  you  a  nice  watch,  in  six  months 
from  this  time,  if  you  will  do  three  things,"  continued 
his  father. 

"  What  are  they  ?"  inquired  Oscar  ;  "  are  they  things 
that  I  caw  do  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Preston  ;  "  you  can  do  them 
if  you  will  only  try.  The  first  is,  that  you  render 
prompt  obedience  to  your  parents,  during  these  six 
months.     Is  n't  that  within  your  power  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oscar,  somewhat  reluctantly. 

'•  The  second  is,"  continued  Mr.  Preston,  "  that  you 
behave  toward  your  playmates  and  all  other  people 
in  such  a  way,  that  no  serious  complaint  shall  be  made 
against  you.     Can  you  do  that,  if  you  try  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  guess  so,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  And  the  last  condition  is,  tliat  you  give  sufficient 

attention  to  your  studies  to  gain  admission  to  the  High 

School,  at  the  end  of  the  term.    Is  that  in  your  power  ?" 
13* 


150  A     DILEMMA. 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  said  Oscar. 

"You  admit,  then,  that  you  can  keep  these  con- 
ditions," continued  his  father;  "the  question  now  is, 
will  you  do  it  ?" 

That  was  a  hard  question  for  Oscar  to  answer.  He 
hesitated,  and  twisted  about  in  his  chair,  and  at  length 
replied  : 

"  Why,  I  don't  suppose  I  should  make  out,  if  I  tried." 

"jN'o,  you  certainly  would  not,  if  that  is  your  spirit," 
replied  his  father.  You  cannot  accomplish  anything 
unless  you  have  some  confidence  that  you  can  do  it, 
and  firmly  resolve  to  try.  You  just  admitted  that 
you  could  keep  these  conditions,  but  it  seems  you  are 
not  willing  to  make  the  attempt.  You  want  a  watch, 
but  you  don't  intend  to  obey  your  parents,  or  to  con- 
duct yourself  properly,  or  to  attend  to  your  lessons, 
for  the  sake  of  getting  it — that 's  what  you  mean  to 
say,  is  it  not  ?'' 

Oscar  remained  silent. 

"lam  sorry,"  continued  his  father,  "  that  you  will 
not  take  up  with  my  offer ;  for  though  I  do  not  think 
it  important  that  you  should  get  the  watch,  it  is  im- 
portant that  you  should  reform    some  of  your  habits. 


THE     HIGH      SCHOOL.  151 

You  are  getting  to  be  altogether  too  wayward  and 
headstrong,  as  well  as  vain." 

"  If  I  get  into  the  High  School  next  summer,  may  I 
have  the  watch  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  No,"  replied  his  father,  "  not  unless  you  comply 
with  the  other  conditions.  But  I  want  you  to  remem- 
ber what  I  told  you  the  other  day,  that  if  you  doiit  get 
into  the  High  School  at  that  time,  I  shall  send  you  to 
some  boarding-school  away  from  home,  where  you  will 
be  made  to  study,  and  to  behave  yourself  too.  If  strict 
discipline  can  do  anything  for  you,  you  shall  have  the 
benefit  of  it,  you  may  depend  upon  that.'' 

Oscar  was  now  two-thirds  of  the  way  through  his  last 
year  in  the  school  he  attended.  His  parents  were  anx- 
ious that  he  should  go  through  the  High  School  course 
of  studies,  and,  indeed,  he  had  applied  for  admission  to 
that  school  the  summer  previous  to  this,  but  did  not 
pass  the  examination.  There  was  still  some  doubt 
whether  he  would  succeed  any  better  at  the  next  ex- 
amination'; and  in  case  of  his  failure,  his  parents  had 
decided  to  send  him  to  a  boarding-school  in  the  coun- 
try. But  there  was  nothing  yerj  alarming  to  him  in 
the  idea  of  going  into  such  an^  establishment,  notwith- 


152 

standing  all  bis  father  said  of  the  strict  discipline  to 
^Yhicb  he  would  be  subjected.  There  would  be  a  nov- 
elty about  it,  he  imagined,  that  would  make  it  quite 
pleasant.  Consequently,  he  cared  very  little  whether 
he  was  accepted  as  a  High  School  pupil  or  not. 


I 


0 


CHAPTER   XL 


THE      MORAL      LESSON 


SCAR  had  the  name  among  his  fellows  of  being 


ihrewd  and  sharp  boy  at  a  bargain  ;  and,  like  too 
many  men  who  have  acquired  a  similar  reputation,  he 
was  not  _over-scrupulous  in  his  manner  of  conducting  his 
business  operations.  If  he  could  drive  a  profitable 
trade,  it  mattered  little  how  he  did  it ;  and  if  somebody 
else  lost  as  much  as  he  gained  by  the  bargain,  that  was 
not  his  business ;  eveiy  one  must  look  out  for  himself. 
So  he  reasoned,  and  so  constantly  did  he  act  on  this 
principle,  that,  to  tell  the  truth,  his  integrity  was  by 
no  means  unimpeachable  among  his  comrades.  It  was 
a  very  general  opinion,  that  in  many  of  their  boyish 
games,  such  as  marbles,  he  would  cheat  if  he  could  get 
a  chance ;  and  the  notion  was  equally  prevalent,  that  in 
a  bargain,  he  was  pretty  sure  to  get  decidedly  the  best 
end. 


154  THE      DOG-COLLAR. 

Oscar  was  very  desirous  that  liis  dog  Tiger  should 
wear  a  brass  collar,  bj  svRy  of  ornament  and  distinction. 
All  other  respectable  dogs  bore  upon  their  necks  this 
badge  of  ownership,  and  he  thought  it  highly  import- 
ant that  Tiger  should  be  on  a  good  footing  with  his 
canine  fiiends.  But  how  to  get  the  collar,  was  the 
question  that  perplexed  him.  He  had  asked  his  father 
to  buy  it,  and  met  with  a  flat  refusal.  He  had  even 
called  at  several  shops,  and  inquired  the  price  of  the 
coveted  article,  but  it  was  hopelessly  beyond  his  means. 
The  subject  lay  heavily  upon  his  mind  for  several  days, 
for  when  he  took  a  notion  that  he  wanted  a  thing,  it 
was  hard  to  reason  or  drive  him  out  of  it.  His  thoughts 
and  his  dreams  were  of  brass  dog-collars,  and  his  talk 
among  his  companions  run  upon  the  same  theme.  At 
length,  while  prosecuting  his  inquiries,  he  happened  to 
learn  that  a  little  boy  who  attended  his  school,  owned 
just  such  a  collar  as  he  wanted,  and  had  no  dog  to 
wear  it.  Here  was  a  chance  for  a  speculation.  Oscar 
lost  no  time  in  seeing  this  boy,  and  in  getting  his  low- 
est price  for  the  collar,  which  was  fifty  cents.  This 
was  much  less  than  the  price  at  the  shops,  and  Oscar 
thought  his  father  might  be  induced,  by  this  fact,  to 


A     FRAUD.  155 

let  him  have  the  money  to  purchase  it;  but  Mr.  Pres- 
ton did  not  think  Tiger  needed  any  such,  appendage, 
and  Oscar's  request  was  again  denied. 

Oscar  now  set  his  wits  to  work  to  devise  a  way  of 
buying  the  collar,  without  his  father's  aid.  He  looked 
over  the  little  collection  of  "  goods  and  chattels,"  which 
he  called  his  own,  to  see  what  there  was  he  could  ex- 
change for  the  article  he  wanted.  His  eye  soon  fell 
upon  a  brass  finger  ring,  and  his  plan  was  quickly 
formed.  The  ring  had  been  tumbled  about  among 
his  playthings  for  a  year  or  two,  and  was  now  dull 
and  dingy  ;  but  he  remembered  that  he  once  cleaned 
and  polished  it,  so  that  it  looked  very  much  like  gold, 
so  long  as  the  lustre  lasted.  He  subjected  it  to  this 
process  again,  and  it  soon  looked  as  well  as  the  plain 
gold  ring  he  wore  upon  his  finger,  which  it  somewhat 
resembled  in  size  and  color.  Substituting  it  for  the 
gold  ring,  he  wore  it  to  school  that  afternoon  ;  and  a 
little  negotiation,  after  school  was  dismissed,  settled  the 
business — the  coveted  dog-collar  was  his !  Indeed,  s\> 
craftily  did  he  conduct  the  bargain,  that  he  made  the 
other  boy  throw  in  a  pretty  ivory  pocket- comb  to  boot ! 
The  little  boy  who  was  thus  cruelly  deceived,  supposed 


156  THE      CHEAT      DISCOVERED. 

lie  was  buying  the  ring  that  Oscar  usually  wore  ;  and, 
in  truth,  Oscar  did  give  him  to  understand,  in  the  course 
of  the  barter,  that  it  was  fine  gold,  a  point  on  which 
the  other  boy  did  not  appear  to  have  much  doubt. 

Oscar  did  not  dare  to  tell  any  one  what  a  good  bar- 
gain he  had  made,  for  fear  that  the  other  boy  would 
hear  of  it.  Tiger  appeared  with  a  handsome  collar 
around  his  neck  the  next  morning  ;  and  all  the  explana- 
tion any  one  could  get  from  his  young  master  was,  that 
he  "  traded  for  it.'* 

A  week  or  two  elapsed  before  Oscar's  victim  discov- 
ered the  imposition  that  had  been  practiced  upon  him. 
The  ring,  which  had  been  proudly  worn,  at  length  be- 
gan to  look  dim  and  brassy  ;  and  on  being  submitted 
to  careful  inspection,  it  w^as  pronounced  by  competent 
authority  to  be  not  worth  one  cent.  The  owner  was  of 
course  indignant,  and  he  went  at  once  to  Oscar,  and 
demanded  a  return  of  the  collar  arid  comb.  But  Oscar 
laughed  at  the  proposal. 

"  A  bargain  is  a  bargain,"  said  he,  "  and  there  can't 
be  any  backing  out,  after  it 's  all  settled.  You  agreed 
to  the  trade,  and  now  you  must  stick  to  it." 

"But  it  wasn't  a  fair  bargain,"  said  the  other  boy; 


157 

"  you  told  me  tlie  ring  was  gold,  and  it  is  nothing  but 
brass." 

"  No,  I  did  n't  tell  you  it  was  gold,"  replied  Oscar. 
"  You  imagined  that.  And  I  did  n't  tell  you  it  was 
the  one  I  wore  either, — you  imagined  that  too.  It  was 
my  other  ring  that  I  said  was  gold,  and  I  told  you  it 
cost  two  dollars,  and  so  it  did.  I  never  told  you  this 
ring  was  gold, — I  recollect  perfectly  about  it." 

"Well,  you  know  I  supposed  it  was  gold,  or  I 
would  n't  have  traded  for  it,"  replied  the  boy  ;  "  and 
besides,  you  made  me  think  it  was  gold,  whether  you, 
really  said  it  was  or  not." 

"  That  was  your  look-out,"  said  Oscar.  "  When  2k 
man  sells  a  thing,  he  is  n't  obliged  to  run  it  down.. 
You  must  look  out  for  yourself  when  you  make  a  bar- 
gain— that 's  what  I  do." 

"  I  should  think  you  did,"  replied  the  other  ;  "  and  I 
guess  I  shall  remember  your  advice,  if  I  ever  trade 
with  you  again.  There  's  your  old  ring  :  now  give  me 
back  my  collar  and  comb,"  he  continued,  handing  the 
ring  to  Oscar. 

"  I  shan't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  Oscar^and.  he  re- 

14 


158  THE      LESSON      IN      MORALS. 

fused  to  take  the  ring,  and  turned  upon  his  heel,  leaving 
the  ether  boy  in  no  very  pleasant  state  of  mind." 

"  Then  you  're  a  great  cheat  and  a  swindler,"  cried 
tlie  victim,  gathering  courage  as  Oscar  retreated. 

"  And  you  're  a  little  greenyj'  replied  Oscar,  with  a 
loud  laugh. 

Oscar  had  prepared  his  mind  for  this  explosion  of 
indignation,  and  though  he  did  not  care  much  about  it, 
lie  was  glad  it  was  over  Avith.  He  regarded  the  trans- 
action which  led  to  it  as  a  shrewd  business  operation, 
to  be  chuckled  over,  rather  than  repented  of;  and  he 
had  no  idea  of  spoiling  it  all,  by  undoing  the  bargain. 

In  Oscar's  school,  it  was  customary  for  the  first  class 
(of  which  he  was  a  member)  to  devote  the  first  half 
tour  of  every  Monday  morning  to  a  lesson  in  morals. 
In  these  lessons,  the  duties  which  we  owe  to  God,  to  our- 
selves, and  to  one  another,  wei-e  explained  and  enforced. 
Although  a  text-book  was  used,  the  teacher  did  not 
confine  himself  to  it,  in  the  recitations,  but  mingled 
oral  instruction  v/ith  that  contained  in  the  printed  les- 
sons, often  taking  up  incidents  that  occurred  in  school, 
to  illustrate  th-e  principle  he  wished  to  establish. 

It  so  happened  that  on  the  Monday  morning  after 


THE      NEWSBOY.  159 

the  occurrence  just  related,  the  subject  of  the  moral 
lesson  was  dishonesty.  The  various  forms  of  dis- 
honesty,— theft,  robbery,  fraud,  &c., — were  explained, 
and  the  distinction  between,  them  pointed  out.  The 
teacher  then  proceeded  as  follows : 

"A  gentleman  was  riding  in  the  cars,  one  evening, 
when  a  newsboy  passed  through  the  train,  and  he  pur- 
chased a  paper,  giving  the  boy  by  mistake  a  gold  eagle 
instead  of  a  cent.  The  boy  noticed  the  mistake,  but 
said  nothing  about  it.  Albert,  you  may  tell  me  what 
you  think  of  that  boy's  conduct." 

"It  was  dishonest," replied  Albert;  "because  he  knew 
that  the  money  did  not  belong  to  him,  and  yet  he  kept  it.** 

"But  did  not  a  part  of  the  blame  belong  to  the 
man  who  made  the  mistake  ?"  inquired  the  teacher. 

Albert,  after  thinking  a  moment,  replied  : 

"  He  was  to  blame  for  his  carelessness,  but  not  for 
the  boy's  dishonesty." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  teacher.     "  The  boy  was 
guilty  of  stealing,  just  as  much  as  if  he  had  picked  th 
mail's  pocket,  or  broken  into  his  house.     But  suppose, 
instead  of  the  mistake  being  to  the  amount  of  ten  dol- 
lars, it  had  only  been  a  i'ew  cents, — how  then  ?" 


160  FORMS      OF      DISHONESTY. 

"It  would  have  been  just  the  same,"  replied  the  boy, 

"But  what  if  the  man  was  very  rich,  and  woi?ld 
aever  feel  the  loss,  while  the  boy  was  poor,  and  net-d- 
ed  the  money  ?" 

"  That  would  have  made  no  difference,"  replied 
Albert. 

"  Very  good,"  continued  the  teacher ;  "  when  an 
honest  man  discovers  a  mistake  in  his  own  favor,  he 
always  hastens  to  rectify  it.  He  will  receive  only  what 
he  is  entitled  to.  Robert,"  he  added,  addressing  an- 
other pupil,  ''  how  is  it  with  regard  to  lost  articles  ?" 

"When  we  find  anything  that  has  been  lost,"  re- 
plied the  boy  addressed,  "  we  should  try  to  ascertain 
the  owner,  and  return  the  article  to  him." 

"  Is  there  any  guilt  in  neglecting  to  do  this  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  is  a  kind  of  dishonesty." 

"  You  are  right,"  added  the  teacher ;  "  the  courts 
often  punish  men  for  this  very  offence,  for  it  is  a 
species  of  theft.  And  how  of  borrowing  articles, 
and   neglecting   to   return   them, — is   that   honest?" 

"  It  is  not,"  replied  Robert. 

"Oscar,"  continued  the  teacher,  "you  may  give 
your    opinion    of    this    case :    suj^pose    one    of   your 


THE     BRASS     RING.  161 

acquaintances  wants  a  certain  article  belonging  to 
you,  and  by  way  of  barter,  offers  you  a  finger-ring  for 
it.  You  take  it  for  granted  that  the  ring  is  gold, 
but  a  week  or  two  after  the  bargain  is  concluded,  you 
discover  that  it  is  of  brass,  and  of  no  value  what- 
ever. The  other  boy  knew  all  the  while  it  was  brass, 
and  also  knew  you  supposed  it  was  gold.  What 
should  you  say  of  such  a  transaction  ?  Was  it 
honest?"  ^ 

Oscar  turned  red,  and  looked  confused,  as  this  ques- 
tion was  put  to  him.  It  was  a  minute  or  two  before  he 
made  any  reply,  and  then  he  said,  in  a  hesitating  man- 
ner : 

"  If  the  other  boy  did  n't  tell  me  it  was  gold,  I  don't 
see  as  he  was  to  blame." 

"  But  we  will  suppose  there  was  no  need  of  his  tell- 
ing you  so,"  added  the  master ;  "  we  will  suppose  he 
managed  the  bargain  so  adroitly,  that  you  never  sus- 
pected he  was  not  dealing  fairly  with  you.  In  thati 
case,  should  you  think  he  had  acted  honestly  towards 
you?" 

"  1^0,  sir,"  replied  Oscar,  but  it  came  out  with  the 

utmost  reluctance.  ,  ,«. 

14* 


162  RESTITUTION. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  teacher ;  "  it  is  dishonest  to 
take  advantage  of  another's  ignorance,  or  simplicity,  or 
necessity,  in  a  bargain.  Overreaching  in  trade  is  often 
dignified  with  the  name  of  shrewdness,  but,  for  all  that, 
it  is  contrary  to  the  rule  of  honesty.  And  now  I  have 
one  more  question  to  ask  you :  After  you  have  discov- 
ered how  your  comrade  has  imposed  upon  you,  what 
should  you  expect  of  him  ?" 

Oscar  made  no  reply. 

*'  Should  you  not  expect  him  to  make  full  restitu- 
tion ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  replied,  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice. 

"  Of  course  you  would,"  continued  the  master ;  "  and 
if  he  refused,  he  would  deserve  double  punishment." 

Several  other  forms  of  dishonesty  were  then  consid- 
ered, such  as  the  following  : — withholding  from  another 
his  just  dues  ;  contracting  debts  which  we  know  we 
cannot  pay,  or  making  promises  we-  know  we  cannot 
fulfil ;  wasting  or  injuring  the  property  of  others,  &c. 
In  concluding,  the  teacher  remarked,  that  it  was  not 
very  pleasant  to  feel  that  we  had  been  wronged  and 
cheated  ;  but  there  was  another  feeling,  a  thousand-fold 
more  to  be  dreaded — the  feeling  that  we  have  wronged 


THE  WARNING  HEEDED.        163 

and  cheated  others.  And  so  ended  the  moral  lesson  for 
that  morning. 

The  particular  bearing  of  this  lesson  upon  Oscar,  and 
the  pertinency  of  the  "  case"  he  was  called  to  decide 
upon,  were  not  generally  known  to  the  class,  though 
their  suspicions  might  have  been  somewhat  excited  by 
his  confusion,  and  his  reluctance  to  answer  the  ques- 
tions put  to  him.  The  teacher  had  been  informed  of 
Oscar's  dishonest  bargain  by  the  boy  who  suffered 
from  it,  and  he  chose  this  way  to  impress  upon  him 
the  immorality  of  the  transaction.  He  concluded,  how- 
ever, to  give  him  an  opportunity  to  make  a  voluntary 
restitution,  and  so  no  further  reference  was  made  to  the 
matter. 

Oscar  was  wise  enough  to  heed  the  warning.  Be- 
fore night,  the  brass  dog-collar  and  the  ivory  pocket- 
comb  were  returned  to  their  rightful  owner. 


CHAPTER   XII. 


SICKNESS, 


"  VOU  liave  got  a  bad  cold,  Oscar,"  said  Mrs.  Pres. 
ton  one  evening  towards  the  close  of  winter,  as 
Oscar  came  in  from  his  play,  and  w^as  seized  with  a 
coughing  spell.  "  And  no  wonder,"  she  added,  on 
glancing  at  his  feet;  "why,  do  you  see  how  wet  the 
bottoms  of  your  pantaloons  are  ?  I  should  hke  to  know 
where  you  have  been,  to  get  so  wet — it  is  strange  that 
you  will  not  keep  out  of  the  water." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  anybody  could  help 
getting  wet  feet  this  weather,  with  the  slosh  up  to  your 
knees,"  said  Oscar. 

"I  could  walk  about  the  streets  all  day  without  going 
over  my  shoes,"  replied  his  mother,  "  and  so  could  you, 
if  you  tried  to.  I  believe  you  go  through  all  the  mud- 
puddles  you  can  jQnd,  just  to  see  how  wet  you  can  get. 
But  it  won't  do  for  you  to  sit  dov/n  in  this  condition.   Take 


WET      FEET.  165 

oft*  your  wet  boots,  and  run  up  stairs  and  put  on  a  pair 
of  dry  pantaloons  and  some  dry  stockings,  and  then 
you  mny  sit  down  to  the  fij'e  and  warm  yourself." 

"  I  don't  want  to  change  my  pantaloons  and  stock- 
ings," said  Oscar  ;  "  I  '11  take  off  my  boots  and  dry 
myself — that  will  do  just  as  well." 

"  No  it  won't,"  replied  his  mother;  "you  had  better 
change  your  clothes,  for  you've  got  a  real  bad  cold 
now,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  get  any  more.  Come, 
do  you  hear  me?  Run  up  to  your  chamber  and  put 
on  some  dry  clothes." 

Oscar  paid  no  attention  to  the  command,  but  after 
removing  his  wet  boots,  sat  down  before  tlie  range  to 
dry  his  feet  and  legs.  Such  instances  of  disobedience 
were  too  common  in  the  fan\ily  to  attract  any  special 
notice,  and  Mrs.  Preston  said  nothing  more  about  the 
matter. 

Oscar,  that  afternoon,  had  been  down  to  the  shores 
of  Charles  River,  near  Cambridge  Bridge,  with  Alfred 
Walton  and  several  other  boys.  They  had  been  amus- 
ing themselves  upon  the  ice  that  had  formed  along  the 
edge  of  the  river,  and  which  was  now  breaking  up. 
They  loosened  some  of  the  large  cakes,  and  set  them 


166  THE      ICE-CAKE. 

floating  off  upon  the  current  towards  the  ocean.  It 
was  in  this  way  that  Oscar  got  his  feet  so  wet. 

The  next  afternoon,  when  school  was  dismissed,  Os- 
car, forgetting  his  wet  feet  and  his  cold,  went  again  to 
the  same  place,  with  several  of  his  cronies.  Tiger  also 
accompanied  the  party,  for  his  master  seldom  went 
anywhere  without  him,  except  to  school.  The  boys 
amused  themselves,  as  on  the  previous  day,  with  shov- 
insf  off  larp'e  blocks  of  ice  into  the  stream,  and  with 
running  rapidly  over  floating  pieces  that  were  not 
large  enough  to  bear  them  up.  Sometimes  they  nar- 
rowly escaped  a  ducking,  so  venturesome  were  they  ; 
and  all  of  them  got  their  feet  pretty  thoroughly  soaked. 

It  happened,  after  awhile,  that  a  cake  of  ice  upon 
which  the  boys  were  all  standing,  got  disengaged  from 
the  shore,  unperceived  by  them,  and  commenced  float- 
ing into  the  river.  They  were  all  at  work  upon  an- 
other ice-block,  trying  to  push  it  off,  and  did  not  notice 
that  they  were  going  off  themselves,  until  they  were 
several  feet  from  the  shore.  The  distance  was  too  great 
to  leap,  and  the  water  was  so  deep  that  none-  of  them 
dared  to  jump  off  from  their  precarious  footing. 

"Well,  this  is  a  pretty  joke,"- said  one  of  the  boys, 


AFLOAT  IN  THE  RIVER.        167 

witli  some-  appearance  of  alarm.  "  I  should  like  to 
know  how  we  are  going  to  get  out  of  this  scrape  ?" 

"  Get  out  of  it  ? — who  wants  to  get  out  of  it  ?"  re- 
plied Oscar.  "  I  don't,  for  one — we  shall  have  a  first- 
rate  sail  down  into  the  harbor  ;  shan't  we,  Alf  ?" 

"The  tide  will  take  us  right  under  the  bridge,  and 
I'm  going  to  climb  up  one  of  the  piers,"  said  Alfred, 
who  appeared  to  be  thinking  more  of  a  way  of  escape 
than  of  the  pleasures  of  the  trip. 

"  Pooh,  I  shan't  get  ofi"  there,"  said  Oscar.  "  I  'm  in 
for  a  sail,  and  if  the  rest  of  you  back  out,  I  shan't. 
You  '11  go  too,  won't  you,  Tom  ?" 

Before  Tom  could  answer,  they  all  began  to  notice 
that  their  ice-cake  gave  signs  that  the  burden  upon  it 
was  greater  than  it  could  safely  bear.  The  swift  cur- 
rent began  to  whirl  it  about  in  a  rather  uncomfortable 
manner,  and  it  was  gradually  settling  under  water. 
They  all  began  to  be  very  much  alarmed — all  but 
Tiger,  who  did  not  quite  comprehend  the  situation  of 
affairs,  and  who  looked  up  into  the  boys'  faces  with  an 
expression  of  curiosity,  as  though  he  wanted  to  say  : 

"  I  wonder  what  mischief  these  little  rogues  are  up 
to  now  ?" 


168 


SHOUTING      FOR      HELP. 


Several  people  who  were  crossing  the  bridge  now 
noticed  the  perilous  situation  of  the  boys,  and  stopped 
to  look  at  them.  As  soon  as  Alfi-ed  noticed  tliena,  he 
cried  out  slowly,  at  the  top  of  his  voice : 

"  Halloo,  there !  send  us  a  boat,  will  you  ?  we  're 
sinkiner!" 


There  was  some  doubt  whether  the  people  on  the 
bi-idge  understood  the  cry,  and  the  other  boys  repeated 
it  as  loud  as  they  could,  in  the  meantime  also  trying 


THE      RESCUE.  169 

to  manifest  their  want  by  signs  and  gestures.  Some 
of  the  spectators  upon  tlie  bridge,  who  wei-e  now  quite 
numerous,  shouted  back  in  reply  ;  but  the  boys,  being 
to  their  windward,  coukl  not  understand  what  they 
said.  Tlieir  fiail  support  was  now  moving  rapidly 
along,  and  whirling  about  in  the  eddies  more  alarming- 
ly than  ever.  It  had  sunk  so  low  that  they  w^ere  all 
standing  in  the  water,  and  they  expected  it  would 
shortly  break  to  pieces  and  precipitate  them  all  into  the 
river.  There  were  four  of  them  upon  the  cake,  besides 
the  dog.  The  two  youngest  boys  began  to  cry  with 
fright ;  but  Oscar  and  Alfred,  though  they  were  as 
much  alarmed  as  the  others,  did  not  manifest  it  in  this 
way,  but  were  looking  anxiously  towards  the  bridge 
and  the  shore  for  relief. 

The  boys  were  not  long  kept  in  this  dreadful  state 
of  suspense ;  for  pretty  soon  they  discovered  a  boat 
putting  out  towards  them  from  the  end  of  the  bridge. 
There  Avere  two  men  in  it,  each  of  whom  was  plying 
an  oar.  They  called  out  to  the  boys  not  to  be  fright- 
ened, and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  alongside  the 
fugitive  ice-cake,  whose  living  freight  was  safely  trans- 
ferred to  the  boat.  The  boatmen  then  pulled  for  the 
15 


170  EFFECTS      OF     EXPOSURE. 

wharf  from  wliicli  they  came,  and  the  rescued  party 
had  the  pleasure  of  standing  once  more  upon  firm 
ground.  They  were  so  overjoyed  at  their  escape  that 
they  forgot  to  thank  the  men  who  had  taken  so  much 
trouble  to  rescue  them.  They  were  not  ungrateful, 
however  ;  though  it  would  have  been  better  if  their 
words  as  well  as  their  looks  had  expressed  the  senti- 
ment they  felt.  As  soon  as  they  reached  the  wharf, 
the  men  advised  them  to  run  home  and  dry  them- 
selves, which  they  proceeded  to  do. 

When  Oscar  reached  home,  he  was  so  hoarse,  from 
hallooing,  that  he  could  not  speak  aloud.  AYhen  his 
mother  heard  of  his  exposure,  and  saw  how  wet  he 
was,  she  was  much  concerned  for  him.  She  wished 
him  to  change  his  damp  clothing,  but  he  did  not  think 
it  necessary,  and  instead  of  complying  with  her  desire, 
he  sat  down  to  the  fire  and  dried  himself.  He  had 
but  little  appetite  for  supper  ;  and  a  headache  coming 
on  in  the  evening,  he  retired  to  bed  eai'ly.  Before  do- 
ing so,  however,  he  took  a  dose  of  medicine  which  his 
mother  had  prepared,  to  "  throw  ofi""  his  cold. 

After  a  feverish  and  restless  night — in  which,  in  his 
troubled  dreams,  Oscar  had  floated  to  sea  upon  a  small 


SICKNESS.  171 

piece  of  ice,  and,  after  a  long  agony,  foundered  alone  in 
fathomless  waters — he  awoke  in  the  morning  feeling 
very  strangely.  Every  few  moments  a  cold  chill  ran 
through,  his  body,  that  maie  him  shiver  until  the  bed 
trembled  beneath  him.  His  head  ached  badly,  and 
there  was  also  a  pain  in  his  back.  He  tried  to  raise 
himself  up,  but  his  arms  had  lost  their  strength,  and 
lie  was  barely  able  to  support  himself  a  moment  upon 
Lis  elbow.  By-and-bye  his  brothers,  who  slept  in  the 
same  room  in  another  bed,  got  up,  and  Oscar  informed 
them  that  he  was  too  weak  to  get  off  the  bed.  They 
soon  called  in  their  father  and  mother,  who,  after  look- 
ing at  the  sick  bo}^,  concluded  to  send  for  a  physician. 

After  breakfast,  Ralph  was  despatched  for  the  doctor, 
who  soon  arrived,  and  was  conducted  into  Oscar's  cham- 
ber. Seating  himself  upon  the  bedside,  he  took  the 
sick  boy's  wrist  into  his  hand,  and  began  to  talk  with 
him  very  pleasantly,  asking  him  various  questions 
about  his  feefings,  the  manner  in  which  he  took  cold, 
&c.  Having  ascertained  all  the  facts  and  symptom 
of  the  case,  he  told  the  family  he  thought  Oscar  was 
suffeiing  from  an  attack  of  lung  fever,  and  he  then 
gave  directions  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  disease 


172  GROWING     WORSE. 

should  be  treated.  He  also  wrote  a  recipe  for  some 
medicine,  to  be  procured  at  the  apothecary's.  The 
terms  used  in  it  were  Latin,  and  very  much  abbrevi- 
ated, besides,  so  that  they  were  unintelh'gible  to  Mrs. 
Preston  ;  for  this  is  a  custom  among  pliysicians,  that 
has  come  down  from  ancient  times.  Seeing  Mi's.  Pres- 
ton was  in  some  doubt  about  the  prescription,  he  ex- 
plained to  her  what  the  articles  were  that  composed  it, 
and  the  effect  they  would  have  upon  the  patient. 
•  After  the  doctor  had  gone,  it  was  decided  to  remove 
Oscar  into  another  chamber,  in  a  lower  story,  where 
he  would  be  more  comfortable,  and  where,  also,  it 
would  be  more  convenient  to  wait  upon  him.  "Wrap- 
ping him  up  warmly  in  the  bed-clothes,  his  father  took 
him  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  to  the  room  he  was 
to  occupy  for  the  present. 

In  spite  of  his  medicine,  Oscar  continued  to  grow 
worse,  through  the  day.  He  longed  for  night  to  come, 
that  he  might  go  to  sleep ;  but  when  it  came,  it  did 
Dot  bring  with  it  the  refreshing  slumber  of  health. 
Short  naps  and  troubled  dreams  alternated  with  long, 
weary  hours  of  wakefulness  ;  and  the  sun,  at  its  next 
rising,  found  him  sicker  than  before.     The  pains  in  his 


PEEVISHNESS.  173 

head  and  cliest  were  more  severe  ;  liis  skin  was  hot 
and  dry ;  his  cheeks  were  flushed  wij:h  fever ;  he 
breathed  with  difficulty,  and  his  congh  had  become 
quite  distressing.  He  felt  cross  and  fretful,  too,  *nd 
nothing  that  was  done  for  him  seemed  to  give  him 
satisfaction.  He  was  unwilling  that  any  one  sJiould 
attend  upon  him,  except  his  mother,  and  refused  to 
receive  his  food  or  medicine  from  any  hand  but  hers. 
If  she  happened  to  be  absent  from  his  room  more  than 
a  few  moments,  when  he  was  awake,  he  would  insist 
upon  her  being  called  back. 

But  though  Oscar  would  not  allow  his  mother  to 
leave  him,  she  did  not  suit  him  much  better  than  the 
other  members  of  the  family.  It  was  with  considerable 
difficulty  that  she  could  coax  him  to  take  the  medicines 
the  doctor  had  ordered.  Then  she  was  obliged  to  deny 
him  all  forms  of  nourishment,  except  a  little  gum-arabic 
water, — an  arrangement  at  which  he  complained  a  good 
deal. 

Oscar's  fever  continued  to  run  for  more  than  a  week, 

the  violence  of  the  disease  increasing  from  day  to  day. 

Then  a  favorable  change  took  place,  and  the  doctor 

told  him  the  fever  had  turned,  and  he  was   getting 
'  15* 


174  GETTING      BETTER. 

better.  For  a  day  or  two  before  this,  however,  he 
was  very  ill ;  so  ill,  indeed,  that  he  submitted  to  what- 
ever the  doctor  ordered,  without  a  woid  of  complaint. 
He-felt  that  there  was  danger,  and  he  dare  not  stand 
in  the  way  of  the  means  used  for  his  recoveiy.  To 
this,  perhaps,  he  owed  the  favorable  turn  the  disease 
had  taken;  forbad  he  refused  to  take  his  medicines, 
as  he  did  at  the  commencement  of  his  sickness,  or  even 
had  he  only  engaged  in  a  fruitless  but  exhausting  con- 
test with  his  mother,  the  scale  might  have  turned  the 
other  wa}^,  and  the  fever  ended  in  death. 

Getting  better !  That  was  the  best  news  Oscar  had 
heard  for  many  a  day.  He  almost  wanted  to  kiss  the 
lips  that  spoke  those  encouraging  words.  He  always 
liked  Dr.  Liscom,  but  never  so  well  as  at  that  moment. 
It  was  good  news  to  all  the  household,  to©,  and  flew 
quickly  from  one  to  another.  In  fact,  the  children 
grew  so  jubilant  over  it.  that  their  mother  had  to  re- 
mind them  that  Oscar  was  yet  too  sick  to  bear  any 
ioise  iu  the  house. 

"0  dear,"  said  George,  "I've  got  tired  of  keeping, 
so  still.  How  long  will  it  be  before  we  can  make  a 
real  good  noise,  mother  ?" 


M 


IMPATIENCE.  175 

"  And  liow  long  before  I  can  sing,  and  practice  \hy 
music-lessons,  mother?"  inquired  Ella. 

"  And  how  long  before  Oscar  can  go  out  and  play  ?" 
inquired  Ralph,  more  thoughtful  for  his  sick  brother 
than  for  himself. 

"  I  can't  tell,"  replied  their  mother  ;  "  you  must  all 
keep  still  a  few  days  longer,  for  Oscar  is  very  weak 
now,  and  the  noise  disturbs  him.  The  doctor  thinks  it 
will  take  several  weeks  for  him  to  get  fully  well,  but  he 
will  soon  be  able  to  sit  up,  I  hope." 

The  next  morning,  Oscar  felt  decidedly  better,  and  so 
he  continued  to  improve  day  by  day.  But  his  old  im- 
patience soon  began  to  return.  He  grumbled  every 
time  the  hour  returned  to  take  his  drops,  and  he  fairly 
rebelled  against  the  food  that  was  prepared  for  him — a 
little  weak  gruel,  when  his  appetite  was  clamoring  for 
a  hearty  meal  of  beef  and  potatoes  !  During  his  sick- 
ness, many  little  delicacies  had  been  sent  in  to  him  by 
friends  and  neighbors,  and  from  most  of  these  too  he 
was  still  debarred  by  the  inexorable  doctor.  He  teased 
his  mother  to  let  him  have  things  the  doctor  had  for- 
bidden, and  was  offended  with  her  Avhen  she  refused. 
He  thus  made  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary  trouble  and 


176  A     DISPUTE. 

suffering  for  his  mother,  who  had  served  him  so  devo- 
tedly through  this  sickness  that  her  own  health  was 
giving  way. 

A  day  or  two  after  his  fever  turned,  Oscar  wished  to 
sit  up  in  a  chair,  and  begged  very  hard  to  be  allowed 
to  get  up  fi'om  the  bed. 

"  Why,  Oscar,"  said  his  mother,  "  you  could  not  sit 
up  two  minutes,  if  I  should  put  you  in  a  chair.  You 
have  no  idea  how  weak  you  are." 

."  No,  I  aint  weak,"  replied  Oscar;  "  I  bet  you  I  can 
w^alk  across  the  room  just  as  well  as  you  can — you 
don't  know  how  strong  I  've  grown  within  a  day  or 
two.     Come,  mother,  do  let  me  get  up,  will  you  ?" 

"  You  are  crazy  to  talk  so,  my  son,"  answered  Mrs. 
Preston.  "  If  you  should  try  to  stand  up,  you  would 
faint  away  as  dead  as  a  log.  It  will  be  a  week  before 
yon  are  strong  enough  to  walk  about." 

"  I  believe  you  mean  to  keep  me  sick  as  'ong  as  you 
can,"  was  Oscar's  unfeeling  reply.  "  I  am  tiicd  almost 
to  death  of  laying  a-bed,"  he  added,  and  the  tears  be 
gan  to  gather  in  his  eyes. 

His  mother  felt  hurt  by  these  words,  but  she  attribut- 
ed them  to  the  weakenino^  and  irritatinof  influence  of 


THE     EASY      CHAIR.  177 

disease,  and  forgave  them  as  qnictly  as  they  were  ut- 
tered. She  even  yielded  to  his  wishes  so  far  as  to  offer 
to  let  him  sit  up  in  bed  a  little  while.  He  gladly  ac- 
ceded to  the  proposal,  and  putting  his  arms  around  her 
neck,  she  slowly  raised  him  up  ;  but  he  had  no  sooner 
reached  an  upright  position  than  his  head  began  to 
"  fly  round  like  a  top,"  and  he  was  very  glad  to  be  let 
down  again  to  his  pillow.  This  little  experiment  satis- 
fied him  for  the  day. 

It  was  a  fine  April  morning  when  Oscar  was  first 
taken  up  from  his  sick  bed,  and  placed  in  an  easy  chair, 
well  lined  with  blankets  and  comforters.  This  was  a 
memorable  event  in  his  life,  the  first  time  he  sat  up  after 
ne^ly  three  weeks'  confinement  to  his  bed.  He  was 
dragged  to  the  front  window,  from  which  he  could  see 
the  people  upon  the  street  below.  How  familiar,  and 
yet  how  strange,  everything  and  everybody  looked  to 
his  sick  eyes  !  And  then,  to  have  his  toast  and  drink 
set  before  him  upon  a  corner  of  the  table,  where  he 
could  help  himself,  and  eat  and  drink  with  some  com- 
fort,— wasn't  that  " grand,"  to  use  his  own  expressive 
term  1 

Oscar's  recovery  was  now  pretty  rapid,  but  his  moth- 


178 


FEAR      OF      A      RELAPSE 


er  had  to  watch  him  veiy  sharply,  to  prevent  him  from 
running  into  excesses,  to  which  his  impatience  continu- 
ally prompted  him.  .It  was  liard  to  make  him  realize 
that  there  was  yet  some  danger  of  a  relapse,  and  that 
prudence  would  be  necessary  for  several  weeks  to  come. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


GETTING      WELL 


/^SCAR  had  reason  to  remember  the  first  time  he 
went  down  stairs,  after  his  fit  of  sickness.  It  was 
in  the  night-time.  He  awoke,  feeling  quite  hungry; 
for  he  was  yet  kept  on  a  spare  diet,  which  was  far 
from  satisfying  the  cravings  of  his  appetite.  He  was 
alone  in  his  room,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family  were 
askep.  A  lamp  was  burning  dimly  in  the  fire-place 
of  his  chamber,  and  the  door  that  led  into  his  mother's 
room  was  open,  that  she  might  be  ready,  at  the  least 
sound  of  alarm.     After  thinkino-  the  matter  over  a  few 

o 

minutes,  and  satisfying  himself  that  no  one  in  the  house 
was  awake,  he  determined  to  go  down  stairs  in  quest 
of  something  to  eat. 

"What  is  the  use  of  starving  a  fellow  to  death,  be- 
cause he  has  been  sick  ?"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  might 
as  well  die  one  way  as  another  ;  and  if  there  's  anything 


180  A      MIDNIGHT      SUPPER. 

to  eat  in  the  house,  I'm  "bound  to  have  it.  I've  lived 
on  slops  and  toasted  bread  three  weeks,  and  I  can't 
stand  it  any  longer." 

He  accordingly  got  up,  and  taking  the  lamp,  stol^ 
very  cautiously  into  the  entry,  and  down  stairs,  having 
nothing  but  his  night-clothes  upon  him.  The  snap- 
ping of  the  stairs,  under  his  tread,  ^Yas  the  only  noise 
that  was  heard,  and  this  did  not  awake  any  of  the 
household.  He  proceeded  at  once  to  the  kitchen  closet, 
and  commenced  helping  himself  with  a  free  hand  to  its 
contents.  He  began  upon  a  dish  of  corned  beef  and 
vegetables,  from  which  he  partook  quite  liberally.  He 
then  hastily  swallowed  a  piece  of  mince-pie,  and  a  slice 
or  two  of  cake,  when,  the  night  air  beginning  to  ^eel 
chilly,  he  hurried  back  to  bed.  This  last  operation 
was  by  no  means  so  easy  as  he  had  imagined  it  would 
be.  His  knees  were  very  weak  and  "  shaky,"  and  it 
seemed  as  though  they  could  not  suppoit  him,  when 
he  undertook  to  go  up  stairs.  He  was  alarmed,  and 
would  have  given  up  the  attempt,  and  called  for  help, 
but  for  the  dread  of  being  caught  in  such  a  flagrant 
act  of  disobedience.  So  he  persisted  in  his  efforts,  and 
finally  reached  his  chamber,  quite  exhausted. 


THE      DOCTOR.  181 

After  a  heavy  and  troubled  sleep,  Oscar  awoke  in  the 
morning,  feeling  quite  wi-etchedly.  As  soon  as  his 
mother  entered  the  room,  her  quick  eye  detected  the 
unfavorable  change;  but  he  did  not  seem  inclined  to 
complain  much  of  his  feelings,  and  appeared  averse  to 
conversing  about  them.  She  ascertained,  however, 
after  awhile,  that  Oscar  was  more  feverish  than  he 
had  been,  that  he  had  a  severe  pain  in  his  chest, 
and  that  his  cough  was  worse.  Many  were  the  sur- 
mises thrown  out,  by  his  father  and  mother,  as  to  the 
probable  cause  of  triis  change  in  his  symptoms;  but  as 
for  himself,  he  seemed  entirely  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
the  mysteiy,  and  left  them  to  form  their  own  conjectures. 

The  doctor,  who  now  visited  Oscar  only  two  or  three 

times  a  week,  was  sent  for  after  breakfast.     When  he 

arrived,  he  questioned  Mrs.  Preston  very  closely  as  to 

the  manner  in  which  the  patient  had  been  treated,  and 

he  also  addressed   many  inquiries  to  Oscar ;    but    he 

learned  nothing  from  either  that  could  account  for  the 

renewed  attack  of  fever.     He  sat  a  few  moments,  in  a 

thoughtful   mood,   seemingly   at    a  loss    what    to  say, 

when  Oscar,  who  had  complained  much  of  nausea  for 

the  last  half  hour,  began  to  show  symptoms  of  vomit- 
16 


182        THE   MYSTERY   SOLVED. 

ing.  A  basin  was  brought,  and  the  contents  of  his 
stomach  were  quickly  discharged  into  it. 

The  mystery  was  now  explained.  Mrs.  Preston 
looked  on  in  silent  astonishment,  while  the  doctor  could 
hardly  repress  his  anger  at  this  exhibition  of  the  contents 
of  his  patient's  stomach.  There  were  great  j^ieces  of  un- 
masticated  meat  and  potato,  mixed  up  with  a  porridge 
of  half-dissolved  pie  and  cake,  the  whole  forming  a 
medley  of  hearty  and  indigestible  substances,  that  would 
have  taxed  the  strong  stomach  of  a  healthy  man. 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  turning  to  Mrs.  Preston, 
when  Oscar  got  through,  "  what  does  all  this  mean  ?" 

"I  know  not;  you  must  ask  him,"  rephed  Mrs. 
Preston. 

The  same  question,  put  to  Oscar,  brought  from  him 
a  reluctant  confession  of  the  last  night's  folly.  When 
he  had  concluded,  the  doctor  arose,  and  taking  his 
hand,   said: 

"  I  will  bid  you  good-bye.  It 's  of  no  use  for  me  to 
attend  upon  you  any  longer,  if  yoa  abuse  my  con- 
fidence in  this  way.  If  you  want  to  kill»yourself,  I 
won't  stand  in  your  way.     Good   morning." 

Before  Oscar  recovered  from  his  astonishment,  the 


THE      DOCTOR     S      ANGER. 


183 


doctor  had  reached  the  entry.  Addressing  his  mother, 
who  was  following  him,  he  said : 

"Call  him  back,  mother — tell  him  I  won't  do  so 
again— call  him  back." 

The  doctor  heard  the  message,  and  returned. 

"  I  will  consent  to  prescribe  for  you  only  on  one  con- 
dition," he  said;  "and  that  is,  that  you  will  agree  to  do 
precisely  as  I  tell  you  to.  You  must  take  the  medicines 
I  order,  and  eat  only  what  I  tell  you  to,  or  I  will. have 
ry^thing  more  to  do  with  you.    Do  you  agree  to  that?" 

"  Yes,  sii',"  replied  Oscar. 

The  doctor  resumed  his  seat,  and  felt  the  patient's 
pulse.  He  had  not  yet  got  entirely  over  his  irritation, 
and,  turning  to  Mrs.  Preston,  he  remarked : 

"  If  the  patient  was  a  little  stronger,  my  first  prescrip- 
tion would  be  a  smart  external  application  of  birch  or 
ratan  ;  but,  as  it  is,  we  shall  have  to  omit  that  for  the 
present.  You  need  not  think  you  will  escape  punish, 
ment,  however,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Oscar.  "This 
scrape  of  yours  will  put  you  back  more  than  one  week 
and  if  you  are  not  careful  you  may  never  get  your 
health  again.  You  may  ti'ifle  with  the  doctor,  but  you 
can't  trifle  with  the  lung  fever." 


184  SLOW     RECOVERY. 

The  doctor  then  gave  directions  as  to  Oscar's  diet 
and  medicine,  and  departed,  but  not  until  he  had  again 
warned  him  ao^ainst  leavino-  the  room  without  his  moth- 
er's  consent,  or  eating  any  articles  forbidden  by  her. 

Oscar  found  no  opportunity  after  this  to  evade  the 
commands  of  the  doctor,  had  he  been  so  disposed,  for 
some  one  was  always  with  him  by  day  and  night. 
Still,  his  recovery  seemed  to  have  been  checked  very 
much-  by  his  relapse,  and  the  doctor's  skill  was  taxed 
pretty  severely  to  bring  the  fever  to  a  favorable  termi- 
nation. As  it  was,  his  attempt  was  not  fully  success- 
ful ;  for  the  fever,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do,  left  be- 
hind it  «,  cough,  and  a  weakness  of  the  lungs,  which 
gave  Oscar's  parents  no  little  alarm  at  times. 

For  a  fortnight  after  his  midnight  supper,  Oscar  al- 
lowed his  mother  and  the  doctor  to  do  just  as  they 
pleased  with  him.  He  yielded  to  their  wishes,  and 
their  orders  w^ere  law  to  him.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
the  doctor  discontinued  his  regular  visits.  Oscar  was 
now  able  to  go  out-doors  a  little  in  very  pleasant 
weather  ;  but  his  cough  rendered  prudence  still  very 
necessary.  His  confinement,  however,  was  daily  grow- 
ing more  iiksome,  and  sometimes  he  disregarded  the 


THE      MENAGERIE.  185 

positive  commands  of  his  parents  by  going  out  when 
the  weather  was  unsuitable. 

One  morning,  a  menagerie,  or  collection  of  wild 
beasts,  was  to  enter  the  city  in  grand  procession.  There 
were  to  be  several  elephants  and  camels  on  foot,  be- 
sides hundreds  of  other  animals  (invisible)  in  carriages. 
There  was  also  to  be  a  mammoth  gilt  chariot,  filled 
with  musicians,  and  drawn  by  ever  so  many  horses. 
The  procession  was  to  pass  very  near  the  street  where 
Oscar  lived,  and  he  intended  to  go  and  see  it ;  but 
when  the  morning  came,  there  was  a  cold,  drizzling 
rain,  with  an  uncomfortable  east  wind,  and  his  mother 
told  him  he  must  not  think  of  going  out.  He  did 
think  of  it,  however,  and  not  only  thought  of  it,  but 
went.  While  his  mother  was  up  stairs,  he  quietly 
slipped  out,  and  went  to  the  corner  the  procession  was 
expected  to  pass.  There  he  waited  about  an  hour,  until 
he  became  thoroughly  wet  and  chilled,  and  then  return- 
ed home,  without  seeing  the  sight ;  for  the  showmen 
had  shortened  their  intended  route  on  account  of  the 
storm.  He  entered  the  house,  vexed  by  his  disappoint- 
ment and  the  uncomfortable  plight  he  was  in  ;  and 

when  his  mother  mildly  reproved  him  for  his  conduct, 
16*  *  * 


186  A     CURIOUS     LETTER. 

and  entreated  him  to  be  more  careful  of  himself,  he 
only  replied  that  .he  did  not  «^ish  to  live,  if  he  must  be 
shut  up  in  the  house  all  the  time.  This  act  of  imprudence 
and  disobedience  made  him  a  close  prisoner  in  the  house 
for  several  days,  besides  causing  him  no  little  suffering. 

Oscar  employed  much  of  his  leisure  time  in  reading, 
during  his  confinement  in-doors.  His  acquaintances 
lent  him  many  interesting  books,  with  which  he  be- 
guiled the  weary  hours.  One  day,  happening  to  think 
of  a  volume  belonging  to  his  classmate,  Benjamin 
Wright,  which  he  thought  he  should  like  to  read,  he 
sent  word  by  Ralph  that  he  wished  to  borrow  it.  The 
next  morning  Benjamin  brought  it  to  school,  and  Ralph 
took  it  home  to  Oscar.  On  removing  the  paper  in 
which  it  was  wrapped  up,  a  letter  dropped  out,  which 
Oscar  found  was  directed  to  himself.  He  opened  it, 
and  a  smile  lit  up  his  countenance  as  he  glanced  over 
the  sheet,  which  was  filled  up  with  drawings  and  writ- 
ing of  an  amusing  character.  Benjamin  was  quite  fa- 
mous among  the  boys  for  the  skill  and  facility  with 
which  he  made  sketches,  and  in  this  letter  he  had  given 
a  curious  specimen  of  his  artistic  talent.  The  following 
is  a  copy  of  this  production  : 


ITS      CONTENTS. 


187 


Dear  Oscar: 
I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  're  in  weakness  and  pain, 
And  I  send  you  a  book  to  beguile  your  tired  brain  ; 
I  send  also  some  puzzles,  to  stir  up  your  wit, 
And  tempt  you  to  laugh,  when  you  really  don't  feel  like  :t  one 
bit  I 


What  a  queer  name  ! ' 

What  do  we  all  do  when  we  first  get  into  bed  ? 

Why  is  swearing  like  an  old  coat  ? 

What  is  that  which  is  lengthened  by  being  cut  at  both  ends  ? 

My  first,  if  you  do,  you  won't  hit ; 

My  second,  if  you  do,  you  will  have  it ;   ' 

My  whole,  if  you  do,  you  won't  guess  it. 


Turn  me  over,  pray. 


188  FUN     FOR     THE     CHILDREN. 

A  word  there  is,  five  syllables  contains ; 
Take  one  awaj,  no  syllable  remains. 

"What  is  that  which  is  lower  with  a  head  than  without  one  ? 

"WK  was  the  first  whistler  ?  ' 

What  tune  did  he  whistle  ? 

How  do  you  swallow  a  door? 

"What  is  that  which  lives  in  winter,  dies  in  summer,  and 
grows  with .  its  root  upwards  ? 

If  you  were  to  tumble  out  of  the  window,  what  would  you 
fall  against  ? 


"Why  is  this  like  the  Falls  of  Niagara  ? 

If  my  puzzles  are  simple,  and  my  pictures  a  fright, 
Then  just  laugh  at  me,  and  it  will  all 

B.  Wright. 

This  letter  was  the  prime  source  of  attraction  to  all 
the  children,  the  rest  of  the  day;  and  its  reception 
formed  an  era  in  Oscar's  sick-day  experience,  not  easily 
to  be  forgotten.  All  the  family,  from  Mr.  Preston 
down  to  little  George,  set  themselves  to  work  to  guess 


MAKING      A      COPY.  189 

out  the  riddles ;  but  in  some  of  them,  they  found  more 
than  their  match.  To  Oscar,  however,  the  letter  was 
something  more  than  a  collection  of  drawings  and  puz- 
zles. It  was  a  token  of  interest  and  sympathy  from  a 
boy  towards  whom  he  had  never  manifested  a  very 
friendly  spirit.  Benjamin's  high  standing  in  the  school, 
both  for  scholarship  and  behavior,  had  awakened  in 
Oscar  a  secret  feeling  of  jealousy  or  resentment  towards 
him.  He  was  a  poor  boy,  too,  and  this  by  no  means 
increased  Oscar's  respect  for  him.  But  now,  Oscar  be- 
gan to  feel  ashamed  of  all  this ;  and  as  instances  of  his 
unkind  treatment  of  his  generous  classmate  came  up 
in  remembrance,  he  wished  he  had  the  "power  to  blot 
them  from  existence.  He  determined  thenceforth  to 
"stand  up"  for  Benjamin,' and  began  to  plan  some  way 
of  making  a  return  for  his  manifestation  of  good  feeling. 
Ella  wanted  to  carry  Benjamin's  letter  to  school,  to 
show  to  the  girls,  but  Oscar  would  not  allow  it  to  go 
out  of  his  hands.  She  then  begged  the  privilege  of 
copying  it,  to  which  he  consented.  She  did  the  best 
she  could,  no  doubt,  but  her  drawings  probably  did  not 
quite  do  justice  to  the  subjects  ;  for  Oscar  declared  that 
her  copy  was  more  comical  than  the  original.    She  lent 


190  AN      ARRIVAL. 

it  to  some  of  her  schoolmates,  one  of  whom  was  roguish 
enough  to  show  it  to  Benjamin  himself!  He  laughed 
heartily  at  the  caricature;  but  thinking  it  was  getting 
him  rather  more  notoriety  than  he  wished,  he  put  it  in 
his  pocket,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

In  consequence  of  his  many  acts  of  imprudence, 
Oscar  got  along  very  slowly  in  his  recovery.  Yet 
he  was  daily  growing  more  impatient  of  his  long 
confinement,  and  the  utmost  vigilance  of  his  parents 
was  necessary  to  restrain  him  from  doing  himself 
harm.  During  stormy  weather,  which  was  not  rare 
at  that  season  of  the  year,  he  was  not  allowed  to 
go  out,  and  the  time  passed  heavily  with  him.  One 
rainy  afternoon,  as  he  was  sitting  listlessly  at  a  front 
window,  watching  for  some  object  of  interest  to  pass, 
a  coach  stopped  at  the  door,  and  his  heart  beat  high 
at  the  thought  of  his  dulness  being  dispelled  by  the 
arrival  of  "company."  The  driver  opened  the  coach 
door,  and  out  jumped  a  stout,  brown-faced  man,  whom 
Oscar  at  once  recognized  as  his  uncle,  John  Preston, 
from  Maine^ 

The  arrival  of  Uncle  John  was  soon  heralded  through 
the  house,  and  a  warm  greeting  extended  to  him.     He 


UNCLE     JOHN.  191 

usually  visited  the  city  thrice  a  year  on  business,  and 
on  such  occasions  made  his  brother's  house  his  stop- 
ping-place. He  lived  in  the  town  of  Brookdale,  where 
he  had  a  family ;  but  he  was  engaged  in  the  lumber 
business,  and  generally  spent  the  winter  months  in  the 
forests  of  Maine,  with  laro-e  o-ano-s  of  lotjQ^ers,  who  were 
employed  to  cut  down  trees,  and  convey  them  to  the 
banks  of  the  streams,  where  they  were  floated  down  to 
the  mills  in  the  spring  freshets.  These  forests  are  far 
from  any  settlement,  and  the  lumber-men  live  in  log- 
huts,  in  a  very  independent  and  care-for-nobody  sort  of 
way.  Oscar  had  often  heard  his  uncle  describe  their 
manner  of  life,  and,  to  him,  there  was  something  quite 
fascinatinof  about  it.  He  thouajht  he  should  like  the 
logging  business  very  much — all  but  the  ivorhing  part 
of  it ;  he  was  afraid  that  would  spoil  the  whole,  for  his 
Uncle  John  always  represented  it  as  being  pretty  hard 
work. 

Oscar  had  four  cousins  in  Brookdale,  the  children  of 
his  Uncle  John,  none  of 'whom  he  had  ever  seen.  He 
had  many  questions  to  ask  about  them,  in  the  course 
of  which  he  expressed  a  wish  that  he  might  visit  them. 
His  uncle  replied  that  he  should  like  to  take  him  home 


-    192  SOLUTIONS    or    puzzles. 

with  him,  and,  as  he  was  sick,  he  thought  the  journey 
might  do  him  good.  He  afterwards  talked  with  Os- 
car's parents  about  the  matter,  and  they  finally  conclud- 
ed to  let  him  go,  hoping  that  a  few  weeks  in  the  coun- 
try would  improve  his  health. 

Note. — The  following  are  the  solutions  of  the  puzzles,  &g., 
in  Benjamin's  letter,  contained  in  this  chapter.  The  first 
puzzle  is  the  name  of  Oscar  Preston,  enigmaticallj  express- 
ed. 2.  Make  an  impression.  3.  It  is  a  bad  habit.  4.  A  ditch. 
5.  Mistake.  6.  Monosyllable.  7.  A  pillow.  8.  The  wind.  9. 
"  Over  the  hills  and  far  away."  10.  Bolt  it.  11.  An  icicle. 
12.  Against  your  inclination.     13.  It  is  a  cataract  (cat  erect). 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE     JOURNEY, 


/^SCx^R'S  valise  was  well  packed  for  his  journey,  and 
many  were  the  injunctions  given  him  by  his 
mother,  in  regard  to  his  conduct  during  his  absence 
from  home.  The  morning  for  his  departure  soon  came, 
and,  in  company  with  his  uncle,  he  proceeded  to  the 
depot,  and  took  the  cars  for  Portland.  It  was  a  mild 
spring  morning,  near  the  close  of  May.  Oscar  secured 
a  seat  by  a  window,  from  which  he  could  see  the  coun- 
try they  passed  through ;  while  his  uncle,  to  whom  the 
journey  was  no  novelty,  seated  himself  by  his  side,  and 
was  soon  absorbed  in  his  morning  newspaper. 

The  keen  relish  with  which  Oscar  set  out  upon  his 
long  ride  gradually  wore  off,  and  he  began  to  feel 
weary  long  before  the  train  reached  its  destination.  It 
was  just  noon  when  they   arrived   at  Portland;    and 

as  it  was  too  late  to  reach  Brookdale  that  day,  Oscar'" 
17 


194  THE     HOTEL, 

uncle  concluded  to  stop  there  until  the  next  morning. 
They  proceeded  to  a  hotel,  where  they  booked  their 
names,  and  were  shown  to  a  chamber.  After  dinner, 
Mr.  Preston  took  Oscar  to  walk,  and  showed  him  some 
of  the  most  notable  places  about  town.  But  the  latter 
felt  too  tired  to  walk  about  a  great  deal,  and  spent 
most  of  the  afternoon  in  the  hotel,  while  his  uncle  was 
off  attending  to  some  business. 

After  supper,  Mr.  Preston  again  went  out  to  make 
some  calls.  He  invited  Oscar  to  go  with  him,  but  he 
preferred  to  remain  in  the  hotel.  He  lounged  awhile  in 
the  bar-room,  as  it  was  called  (though  there  was  no  bar 
in  it),  listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  men  who  had 
gathered  there.  At  length,  beginning  to  grow  sleepy, 
he  retired  to  his  chamber,  taking  with  him  a  queer 
little  lamp  the  landlord  gave  him,  which  appeared  to 
hold  only  about  a  thimblefull  of  oil.  Oscar  thought  it 
was  a  stingy  contrivance,  and  had  some  notion  of  sit- 
ting up  to  see  how  long  it  would  burn ;  but  his  eye- 
lids grew  heavy,  and  he  gave  up  the  idea.  Throwing 
off  his  clothing,  he  extinguished  his  diminutive  lamp, 
and  took  possession  of  one  of  the  beds  in  the  room,  of 
which  there  were  two.     As  he  composed  himself  to 


EVENING     PRAYER.  195 

sleep,  a  slight  sense  of  lonesomeness  stole  over  him, 
when  he  remembered  that  he  was  alone  in  a  strange 
house  and  a  strange  city,  more  than  a  hundred  miles 
from  his  home  ;  and  almost  unconsciously  he  found 
himself  reverently  repeating  the  little  prayer  he  ha 
been  taught  by  his  mother  in  infancy,  but  which  of  lat 
years,  in  his  sad  waywardness,  he  had  outgrown  and 
almost  forgotten  : 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep ; 
If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  praj  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take." 

He  had  occasionally  repeated  to- himself  this  simple 
but  appropriate  evening  petition  during  his  late  illness ; 
but,  strange  to  tell,  for  several  years  previous  to  that 
time,  the  thought  of  asking  anything  of  the  great 
Giver  of  all  good  had  scarcely  ever  entered  his  mind. 

Oscar  was  soon  fast  asleep,  and  the  next  thing  he 
was  conscious  of  was  the  striking  of-  a  strange  cllurch- 
clock,  that  awoke  him  in  the  morning.  His  uncle  was 
dressing  himself,  and  the  sun  was  shining  in  at  th 
window.  For  a  moment,  he  was  puzzled  to  determine 
where  he  was ;  but  his  recollection  returned  when  his 
uncle  remarked : 


196 


THE      CAR  S. 


It 


"  Come,  Oscar,  it  is  time  to  get  up, — we  liave  got  to 
be  at  the  dei^ot  in  an  liour." 

Oscar  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  was  dressed  and 
ready  for  the  breakftist  table  before  the  bell  rang.  Af- 
er  the  morning  meal  was  despatched, — for  it  was  lit- 
erally a  work  of  despatch,  judging  from  the  celerity 
with  which  the  heaj)ing  plates  of  hot  biscuits  and  beef- 
steak disappeared  from  the  long  table, — Mr.  Preston 
settled  with  the  landlord,  and  proceeded  with  Oscar  to 
the  raih'oad  depot. 

"  How  much  further  have  we  got  to  go  ?"  inquired 
Oscar,  after  they  had  taken  their  seat  in  the  car. 

"  About  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles,"  replied  his 
uncle  ;  "  and  thirty-five  of  it  will  be  in  a  stage-coach — 
that  is  the  worst  of  the  whole  journey." 

"  I  shall  like  that  part  of  it  first-rate,  I  guess,"  said 
Oscar.     ''  If  they  have  good  horses,  I  know  I  shall." 

"  You  will  find  out  how  you  like  it,  before  night," 
added  Mr.  Preston,  with  a  smile. 

The  cars  were  soon  on  their  way,  and  Oscar's 
eyes  and  attention  were  fully  engaged  in  taking 
note  of  the  scenery  from  the  windows.  The  ap- 
pearance   of  the  country  did   not   differ   much   from 


THESTAGE-COACH.  197 

that  through  which  he  passed  the  day  previous ; 
and  long  before  he  reached  the  end  of  his  eighty- 
miles'  ride,  his  attention  began  to  flag,  and  his  eyes 
to  grow  weary.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock,  when 
they  arrived  at  the  depot  at  which  they  were  to  leave 
the  train.  Here  they  had  an  opportunity  to  rest  an 
hour,  and  to  take  dinner,  before  resuming  their  jour- 
ney. 

After  dinner,  the  stage-coach  made  its  appearance, 
and  the  passengers  began  to  stow  themselves  away 
within  it.  Oscar  mounted  the  outside,  and  took  a 
seat  with  the  driver,  with  whom  he  was  soon  on  inti- 
mate terras.  All  things  being  ready,  the  horses  started, 
at  the  familiar  "  Get  up  !"  and  they  were  on  their  wa,j 
toward  Brookdale. 

The  horses  did  not  prove  quite  so  smart  as  Oscar 
hoped  they  would,  and  the  coach  was  a  heavy  and 
hard-riding  concern,  compared  with  those  he  was  ac- 
customed to  ride  upon  at  home.  But  the  road  was 
good,  though  hilly,  and  the  scenery,  much  of  the  way, 
was  very  pleasant.  The  driver,  too,  was  quite  talkative, 
and  Oscar  being  the  only  outside  passenger,  enjoj^ed 

the  full  benefit  of  his  communicativeness.     Occasion- 

17* 


198 


WHAT      THEY      SAW. 


ally  they  passed  tbroiigli  a  village,  with  its  rows  of 
neat  white  houses,  its  tall  church  steeple,  its  busthng 
store,  and  its  groups  of  children  playing  in  the  streets. 
Now  and  then  they  stopped  a  few  moments,  to  leave  a 
passenger,  a  package,  or  a  mail-bag  ;  for  the  strong 
leathern  bags,  with  brass  padlocks,  which  the  driver 
had  carefully  packed  away  under  his  box,  contained 
the  United  States'  mails  for  the  towns  along  his 
route. 

As  they  advanced  on  their  way,  the  villages  became 
■less  frequent,  the  farm  houses  were  more  scattering, 
and  the  country  grew  more  wild.  Sometimes  the  road 
extended  for  miles  through  thickly-wooded  forests. 
Occasionally  they  w^ould  come  in  sight  of  a  river, 
and,  perhaps,  would  hear  the  clatter  and  whizzing 
of  a  saw-mill,  or  get  a  glimpse  of  a  raft  of  logs  float- 
ing lazily  down  the  stream.  It  was  about  six  o'clock 
when  the  stage  stopped  at  the  post-office  of  a  small 
settlement,  and  the  driver  told  Oscar  he  was  going  to 
leave  him  there.  His  seat  had  grown  tiresom.e,  during 
the  last  few  hours,  and  he  was  by  no  means  sorry  to 
leave  it. 

"  Well,  Jerry,  here  I  am  again,"  said  Mr.  Preston, 


COUSIN     JERRY.  199 

addressing  a  boy  who  stood  by.  "How  are  all  the 
folks  at  home  ?" 

"  They  are  well,"  replied  the  boy  addressed. 

"  This  way,  Oscar,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  pointing  to  a 
horse  and  wagon  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 
"  Oscar,  this  is  your  cousin  Jerry,"  he  continued,  and 
the  boys  shook  hands  with  each  other,  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  introduction. 

Oscar  now  learned  that  they  were  yet  five  miles  from 
Brookdale,  and  that  as  the  stage  did  not  pass  any 
nearer  to  his  uncle's,  Jerry  had  come  over  with  a  horso 
to  take  his  father  home.  There  being  but  one  seat 
to  the  wagon,  Mr.  Preston  and  Oscar  took  possession 
of  it,  while  Jerry  seated  himself  on  the  floor  behind 
them.  While  on  the  way  to  Brookdale,  Oscar  ad- 
dressed several  remarks  to  his  cousin  ;  but  the  latter 
seemed  shy,  and  they  did  not  get  acquainted  with  each 
other  very  fast.  They  passed  but  very  few  houses, 
and  Oscar  looked  in  vain  for  any  signs  of  a  village. 
At  length,  when  he  thought  they  could  not  be  far 
from  their  journey's  end,  he  inquired  : 

"  Where  is  the  village,  uncle  John  ?  Shan't  we 
see  any  of  it,  going  to  your  house  ?" 


200  THE    journey's    end. 

"  This  is  the  village,"  replied  Mr.  Preston. 

"  This  a  village !"  exclaimed  Oscar ;  "  why,  I  don't 
see  any  houses." 

"  This  is  all  the  village  there  is,"  replied  his  uncle ; 
*'  there  are  hardly  any  two  houses  in  sight  of  each 
other  in  the  town." 

They  were  now  approaching  an  old,  two-story  farm- 
house, in  the  doorway  of  which  a  woman  and  several 
children  were  standing,  looking  towards  them.  This 
proved  to  be  the  end  of  their  journey.  Having  driven 
the  wagon  into  the  large  barn  which  stood  nearly  op- 
posite the  house,  Mr.  Preston  left  Jerry  to  put  up  the 
horse,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  the-  house  with  his 
nephew.  Mrs.  Preston  had  seen  Oscar  in  Boston, 
and  came  out  to  meet  him.  She  welcomed  him  very 
cordially,  and  inquired  after  all  the  other  members  of 
the  family.  She  then  introduced  him  to  his  three 
other  cousins,  Emily,  Harriet,  and  Mary,  all  of  whom 
were  younger  than  Jerry,  and  quite  as  shy  and  silent 
as  he,  at  the  presence  of  a  stranger. 

Supper  was  now  ready,  and  all  the  family,  including 
James,  the  hired  man,  seated  themselves  at  the  table. 
Mr.  Preston,  during  the  meal,  talked  freely  of  what  he 


LITTLE      MARY.  201 

had  seen  and  done  since  he  left  home ;  but  the  children 
maintained  their  gravity  and  silence,  though  Oscar 
tried  hard  to  break  the  ice  of  restraint  with  Jerry,  who 
sat  by  his  side.  A  strange  face  was  an  unusual  thing 
among  them,  and  they  could  not  get  over  it  in  a  mo- 
ment. 

After  supper,  Mrs.  Preston  and  her  oldest  daughter 
cleared  off  the  table  and  washed  the  dishes  ;  James 
and  Jeny  went  out  to  the  barn  ;  Mr.  Preston  sat  down 
to  a  table  to  examine  some  papers  he  had  in  his  pocket- 
book  ;  while  Harriet  and  Mary  remained,  to  keep  Oscar 
company.  The  latter  now  began  to  make  advances 
towards  his  youngest  cousin,  who  was  the  prettiest  and 
most  interesting  of  the  children.  A  little  coaxing 
brought  her  to  his  side. 

"  Do  you  know  what  my  name  is.  Sissy  ?"  he  in- 
quired. 

^Yes;  it's  Oscar,"  she  replied.  * 

"  Oscar  what  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Cousin  Oscar,"  she  answered,  after  a  little  hesitation. 

"  Yes,  but  that  is  n't  all  of  it,"  replied  Oscar ;  "  don't 
you  know  the  other  part  of  it — Cousin  Oscar  — — 
what  ?" 


202  'CONVERSATION. 

Mary  looked  thoughtful  a  moment,  and  then  replied, 
in  a  confident  tone,  "  Boston." 

Oscar  could  not  help  laughing  at  this  amusing  mis- 
take, and  Mar  J,  feeling  hurt  at  the  liberty  he  took,  be- 
gan to  move  away  ;  but  he  held  her  by  the  hand,  say- 
ing: 

"  No,  don't  go  yet,  Sissy — you  got  my  name  almost 
right,  after  all.  Cousin  Oscar  Preston,  from  Boston, — 
that  was  what  you  meant  to  say,  was  n't' it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mary. 

"Now  tell  me  what  your  name  is?"  continued  Oscar. 

"  Mary  Preston,"  she  replied. 

"  And  how  old  are  you  ?" 

"  I  'm  going  to  be  six  next  winter,"  she  answered, 
with  animation. 

"  Very  well, — you  're  a  smart  little  girl,"  replied 
Oscar. 

"  How  old  be  you  ?"  inquired  Mary,  now  turning^the 
table  upon  her  questioner. 

"  I  'm  fourteen,"  said  Oscar. 

"  You  're  a  smart  little  boy,"  added  Mary,  with  a 
roguish  twinkle  in  her  eye,  and  she  darted  out  of  the 
room  with  a  merry  laugh. 


GETTING     ACQUAINTED.  203 

After  that,  there  was  no  more  shyness  between  Mary 
and  Oscar.  With  the  older  children,  however,  Oscar 
did  not  get  acquainted  quite  so  easily,  particularly  with 
the  girls.  He  made  but  little  progress  with  any  of 
them  that  evening,  until  he  retired  with  Jerry,  with 
whom  he  was  to  sleep  during  his  visit.  After  they 
had  got  into  bed,  Jerry's  tongue  was  loosed,  and  be 
fore  they  went  to  sleep  his  reserve  had  almost  entirely 
vanished. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


BROOKDALE. 


rriHE  next  morning  the  air  was  extremely  raw  and 
chilly,  and  there  were  strong  indications  of  rain. 
Oscar's  uncle  and  aunt  advised  him  so  earnestly  not  to 
expose  himself  to  the  cold  and  damp  wind,  that  he  did 
not  extend  his  rambles  any  further  than  to  the  barn 
that  day.  But  if  he  did  not  go  far,  he  made  many 
new  acquaintances.  Having  made  sure  of  Jerry  and 
Mary,  he  left  his  other  two  cousins  to  "  surrender  at 
discretion,"  and  turned  his  attention  in  another  direc- 
tion. His  first  performance  was  to  introduce  himself 
to  Billy,  the  horse,  who  was  eating  the  breakfast  James 
had  just  given  him.  After  rubbing  and  talking  to  him 
awhile,  he  paid  his  respects  to  a  pair  of  oxen  and  three 
or  four  cows,  which  he  helped  James  and  Jerry  to  drive 
into  the  pasture  near  the  barn.  He  next  vibited  the 
hog's,  and  then  the  hens.     This  completed  the  hst  of 


A     LONG     VACATION.  205 

live  stock  on  the  farm.  He  then  had  a  froHc  with 
Jerry  in  the  hay-loft,  in  the  midst  of  which  he  sudden- 
ly stopped  and  inquired  : 

"  Is  n't  it  almost  time  for  you  to  go  to  school,  Jerry  ?" 

"  No,"  his  cousin  replied,  with  a  laugh,  "  it  wants 
just  six  months  of  it." 

"Six  months!"  exclaimed  Oscar;  "what  do  you 
mean  ?     Don't  you  go  to  school  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  go  when  there  is  any  school ;  but  it  does  n't 
commence  till  next  December,"  replied  Jerry. 

"That's  a  queer  idea,"  said  Oscar ;  "I  should  like 
to  know  how  long  your  school  keeps,  after  it  begins." 

"  It  keeps  three  months,"  replied  Jerry. 

"  I  should  like  that  first-rate — I  wish  I  lived  here," 
said  Oscar  ;  "  I  have  to  go  to  school  all  the  time.  But 
why  does  n't  your  school  keep  more  than  three 
months  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Jerry  ;  "  I  guess  it 's  because 
folks  are  too  stingy  to  pay  for  it.  They  've  been  talk- 
ing of  having  a  summer  school,  but  I  don't  believe  it 
will  amount  to  anything." 

"  I  should  hope  it  would  n't  if  1  lived  here,"  said  Os- 
car. *'  What  capital  times  you  must  have  ! — no  school 
18 


206  WORK     AND     PLAY. 

to  bother  you,  and  no  lessons  to  get.     But  I  su] 
you  have  to  work  some — don't  you  ?" 

"  No,  not  much,"  said  Jerry  ;  "  I  help  a  little  in 
planting  and  haying  time,  and  have  a  few  chores  to  do 
about  the  house, — that 's  all." 

**  Do  you  have  many  boys  to  play  with  ?"  inquired 
Oscar. 

"  There  are  boys  enough,"  replied  his  cousin,  "  but 
they  are  scattered  all  over  town, — that 's  the  worst  of 
it  There  is  only  one  fellow  of  my  age  that  lives  near 
here,  and  he's  half  a  mile  off." 

"  If  you  call  that  near,  I  should  like,  to  know  what 
you  call  distant,"  said  Oscar.  "I'm  afraid  I  should  be 
lonesome  if  I  lived  here." 

"Halloo,  it  rains!"  said  Jerry,  as  the  big  drops  be- 
gan to  sound  upon  the  roof  over  their  heads. 

"  Then  I  'm  going  in,"  added  Oscar,  and  they  both 
started  for  the  house. 

It  proved  to  be  a  rainy  day,  and  Oscar  was  obliged 
to  find  his  amusement  in-doors  through  its  remaining 
hours.  With  his  four  cousins  to  help  him,  this  was 
not  a  very  difficult  matter.  When  he  retired  at  night, 
he  felt  quite  at  home  in  his  new  quarters. 


A     FINE      MORNING.  207 

The  sun  rose  clearly  the  next  morning,  and  every- 
thing looked  the  more  beautiful  for  the  rain.  To 
Oscar,  the  fields,  not  only  seemed  greener,  but  the  hills 
looked  higher,  and  the  trees  more  majestic,  than  they 
did  the  day  before. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  stood  before  the  cham- 
ber window,  "  there  is  a  pond  away  off  there,  is  n't 
there  ?     I  did  n't  know  that  before." 

"  Yes,  that 's  a  pond,"  replied  Jerry,  "  and  we  've  got 
a  small  river,  too,  but  you  can't  see  it  from  here. 
We  '11  go  over  to  the  pond,  some  warm  day,  and  go 
into  water ;  it 's  a  real  good  place  to  bathe." 

"  Perhaps  we  '11  go  to-day,"  said  Oscar ;  '*  it  looks  as 
though  it  were  going  to  be  real  warm." 

Mrs.  Preston  now  called  to  the  boys  that  breakfast 
was  ready,  and  they  hurriedly  finished  dressing  them- 
selves, and  descended  to  the  kitchen.  Having  washed 
his  face  at  the  sink,  Oscar  stepped  to  the  door,  and 
used  his  pocket-comb  ;  but  Jerry  was  in  too  great  a 
hurry  to  go  through  this  last  operation,  and  he  was 
about  taking  his  seat  at  the  table,  with  his  hair  stand- 
ing up  in  every  direction,  when  his  father  inquired  : 

"  Jerry,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  your  head  2"  , 


208  NEATNESS. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Jerry,  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  Well,  I  think  you  had  better  do  something  to  it, 
before  you  come  here,"  said  his  father.  "  Oscar  will 
think  you  were  brought  up  among  the  wild  Arabs, 
if  you  come  to  the  table  with  such  a  mop  of  hair  as 
that  about  your  head.  Don't  you  see  how  nicely  he 
has  smoothed  his  hair  V 

"  He 's  got  a  comb  of  his  own.  I  wish  you  would 
buy  me  one,  father,"  said  Jerry. 

"  Don't  stand  there  talking — go  and  comb  your 
hair,"  said  Mr,  Preston,  somewhat  sharply. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Jerry  did  need  a  lesson  in  neat- 
ness; and  in  this  respect,  Oscar  was  a  very  good 
model  for  him  to  imitate.  Having  reduced  his  snarly 
locks  to  something  like  order  and  smoothness,  Jerry 
took  his  seat  at  the  table,  much  improved  in  appear- 
ance. 

"  You  '11  have  a  chance  to  go  about  some  to-day, 
Oscar,"  said  Mr.  Preston  ;  "  it 's  about  twenty-five  de- 
grees warmer  than  it  was  yesterday." 

"  Father,"  said  Jerry,  "  I  and  Oscar — ^" 

"  I  and  Oscar — where  did  you  learn  your  manners  ?" 
interrupted  his  mother. 


A     PROPOSAL.  209 

Jerry  was  for  a  moment  in  doubt  wh ether  to  be 
offended  or  not  at  this  second  unexpected  lesson  in 
^ood-breeding ;  but  lie  finally  concluded  to  make  the 
best  of  it,  and  went  on  with  his  story : 

''  Oscar  and  I,  then — were  going  over  to  the  pond 
this  forenoon,  and  I  guess  it  will  be  warm  enough  for 
us  to  go  into  water.     Should  n't  you  think  it  would  ?" 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Preston,  "you  mustn't 
think  of  such  a  thing.  It's  only  the  first  of  June, 
and  you  ought  not  to  go  into  water  for  two  or  three 
weeks  yet.  Besides,  Oscar  's  an  invalid,  and  I  should  n't 
like  to  have  him  go  in,  even  if  it  was  warm  enough  for 
you.  I  would  n't  walk  about  much,  either,  at  first,''  he 
continued,  addressing  Oscar.  "  You  're  weak,  and  must 
look  out,  and  not  overdo  yourself.  This  afternoon, 
when  the  horse  is  at  leisure,  Jerry  shall  give  you  a 
ride ;  so  you  had  better  not  go  far  this  forenoon." 

The  river  of  which  Jerry  spoke  is  a  small  stream  that 
has  its  source  in  the  lake  Oscar  saw  from  the  chamber 
window.  It  flows  in  a  south-westerly  direction,  cross- 
ing the  road  on  which  Mr.  Preston  lived,  not  far  from 
his  house.     A  small  bridge  is  thrown  over  the  river  at 

this  point.     After  breakfast,  Jerry  and  Oscar  walked 
18* 


210       '  WALKING     AND     RIDING. 

down  to  this  bridge,  and  then,  leaving*  the  road,  fol- 
lowed the  river  through  the  fields  and  woods,  to  its 
fountain-head.  Here  they  found  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  more  than  half  a  mile  across,  in  one  direction, 
with  an  irregular  shore,  fringed  most  of  the  way  with 
woods.  A  two-masted  sail-boat  was  riding  at  anchor, 
a  little  oflF  from  the  shore,  w^hich  Oscar  regarded  with 
wishful  eye ;  but  as  it  did  not  belong  to  Mr.  Preston, 
and  they  could  not  reach  it  without  going  into  the 
water,  it  was  of  no  use  to  think  of  taking  a  sail.  They 
now  walked  along  the  edge  of  the  pond,  some  distance, 
and  after  wandering  some  time  in  the  woods,  they  re- 
turned home  by  a  circuitous  route. 

The  annexed  map  of  Brookdale  will  show  the  loca- 
tion of  the  pond,  river,  &c.  Jerry  lived  in  the  house 
numbered   2. 

Oscar  and  Jerry  spent  the  rest  of  the  forenoon  in  the 
barn  and  wood-shed,  and  in  the  fields  immediately 
around  the  house.  After  dinner,  Mr.  Preston  told  the 
boys  they  could  have  the  horse  and  wagon^  and  as  the 
family  wanted  some  groceries,  they  might  ride  over  to 
the  store  and  get  them.  They  accordingly  tackled  up 
the  team,  and  were  soon  on  their  way. 


MAP     OF      BROOKDALE 


211 


The  store  at  which  Mr.  Preston  traded  was  at  the 
village  where  the  stage  left  Oscar,  which  goes  by  tlie 
name  of  the  "  Cross-Roads,"  from  the  fact  that  two  of 
the  principal   thoroughfares  of  that  section  of  country 


cross  at  this  point.  Though  this  store  was  about  five 
miles  distant,  there  was  no  other  one  nearer  to  Mr. 
Preston's.  The  boys  had  a  fine  ride  over  to  the  vil- 
lage. Oscar  drove,  and  was  quite  anxious  to  put  Billy 
to  a  test  of  his  speed  ;  but  as  his  uncle  told  them  not 
to  hurry,  because  the  horse  had  been  worked  some  in 


212  THE      VILLAGE      STOBiS. 

the  forenoon,  lie  did  not  dare  to  make  any  experiment 
of  this  kind.  Jerry  assured  him,  however,  that  he  once 
drove  Billy  over  to  the  Cross-Roads  in  just  twenty 
minutes,  which  w^as  the  quickest  time  he  had  ever  been 
known  to  make.  He  thought  this  a  remarkable  feat ; 
but  Oscar  did  not  seem  much  astonished  at  it,  and  said 
he  knew  of  horses  that  could  go  a  mile  in  three  min- 
utes, and  even  in  less  time  if  the  road  was  smooth  and 
level. 

After  riding  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  they 
arrived  at  the  Cross-Roads,  and  drove  up  to  a  post  and 
chain  for  tying  horses  in  front  of  the  store.  The  store 
W£i&  kept  in  a  large  wooden  building.  Over  the  door 
^vas  the  sign,  "  J.  Fletcher,  Variety  Store  ;"  and  the 
shutters  were  covered  with  columns  of  names  of  articles 
sold  within,  such  as  "  Bacon,"  "  Cheese,"  "  Flour," 
"  Grain,"  "  Shoes,"  "  Dry  Goods,"  ^c.  Another  sign 
in  one  of  the  windows  indicated  that  this  was  also  the 
post-office  of  the  village. 

The  boys  went  into  the  store,  and  while  Jerry  was 
ordering  the  articles  his  mother  had  sent  for,  Oscar  im- 
proved the  opportunity  to  look  around  the  premises. 
It  was  to  him  a  queer  assortment  of  goods.      There 


A     QUEER     MEDLEY.  213 

seemed  to  be  a  little  of  everything  for  sale.  Here  you 
could  buy  of  one  salesman  articles  that  you  could  obtain 
in  Boston  only  by  visiting  a  dozen  different  shops. 
Groceries  and  dry  goods,  country  produce  and  hard- 
ware, boots,  shoes,  and  hats,  confectionary  and  fancy 
articles,  stoves  and  children's  toys,  were  in  most  neigh- 
borly companionship.  Before  leaving  the  store,  Oscar 
invested  a  few  cents  in  candy  and  cigars ;  for  his  father 
had  given  him  a  little  spare  change  beyond  what  was 
necessary  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  journey.  He 
shared  the  candy  with  Jerry,  and  put  the  cigars  in  his 
pocket  for  future  use. 

Jerry  having  finished  his  business  at  the  store,  they 
set  out  on  their  return,  and  arrived  home  in  safety  and 
without  meeting  with  any  remarkable  adventure.  The 
boys  employed  themselves  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  in 
planning  excursions-  and  amusements,  and  before  they 
got  through,  they  had  laid  out  "  fun"  enough  to  occupy 
them  for  several  days. 

The  evenings  were  now  quite  short,  and  as  it  was  the 
custom  to  retire  to  bed  early  at  Mr.  Preston's,  it  fre- 
quently happened  that  no  lamps  were  lit  in  the  house 
for  several  days  in  succession.     As  twilight  came  on 


214  DREAMING. 

that  evening,  Oscar,  who  began  to  feel  pretty  tired,  laid 
down  upon  the  sofa  in  the  sitting-room,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  was  fast  asleep.  Jerry  got  a  straw,  and  was 
about  to  tickle  his  ear,  when  his  mother  stopped  him. 
Oscar's  nap,  however,  was  a  short  one,  and  suddenly 
waking  up,  he  began  to  laugh. 

"  I  guess  you  had  a  pleasant  dream,"  said  his  aunt. 

"  I  had  a  real  funny  one,"  replied  Oscar.  "  I  thought 
you  sent  me  over  to  the  store  to  get  some  things,  and 
when  I  got  there,  I  had  them  all  jumbled  together  in 
my  head,  and  I  told  the  man  I  wanted  a  yard  of  mo- 
lasses, and  a  pound  of  calico,  and  a  gallon  of  shingle- 
nails,  and  I  did  n't  know  what  else.  And  I  thought 
the  man  laughed,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  take  them 
loose,  or  have  them  done  up  in  a  rag.  Then  another  boy 
that  was  in  the  store  set  up  a  loud  laugh,  and  that  woke 
me  up.    I  wonder  how  long  I  slept — do  you  know,  aunt  ?" 

"  Only  two  or  three  minutes,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston. 

"  I  was  real  smart,  then,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  for  you 
gave  me  my  errand,  and  I  harnessed  the  horse  and 
drove  away  over  to  the  Cross- Roads,  and  went  through 
the  scene  in  the  store,  and  woke  up  again,  all  in  two  or 
three  minutes.     I  thought  I  'd  been  asleep  half  an  hour." 


BABIES.  215 

"  I  should  think  you  'd  dream  about  the  store,"  said 
Jerry  ;  "  you  've  made  fun  enough  about  it,  if  that 's 
all." 

"  Well,  I'll  leave  it  to  aunt  if  it  is  n't  odd  to  see  such 
a  queer  lot  of  stuff  in  one  store.  I  've  heard  about 
country  stores,  but  I  never  saw  one  that  would  come 
up  to  that  before.  It  is  almost  equal  to  going  into  a 
fair,  to  go  in  there.  There  was  everything  you  could 
think  of,  from  a  grindstone  to  a  pop-gun." 

"  There  is  n't  business  enough  to  support  more  than 
one  trader,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  Mr.  Fletcher 
keeps  such  a  variety,"  said  Mrs.  Preston. 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Oscar,  "  and  I  suppose  the  folks 
are  glad  to  have  him  keep  all  sorts  of  knick-knacks ; 
but  it  seems  queer  to  me,  to  see  groceries  and  dry 
goods,  and  everything  else,  in  the  same  shop." 

"  Did  you  see  any  babies  there  ?"  inquired  little 
Mary,  who  was  amusing  herself  by  walking  around  the 
room  backwards. 

"  What  sort  of  babies — live  ones,  or  rag  ones,  or 
wax  ones?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"jSTo,  none  of  them,"  replied  Mary;  "I  mean  crying 
babies,  like  Annie  Davenport's." 


216 


FALL. 


"  0,  you  moan  those  little  dolls  that  make  a  squeak- 
ing noise  when  you  squeeze  them.  No,  I  believe  I 
did  n't  see  any,"  said  Oscar. 

"  IS'o,  Mr.  Fletcher  would  n't  keep  such  silly  things 
as  them,"  said  Jerry,  who  was  very  fond  of  teasing  his 
sisters. 

"No,  they  aint  silly,  either,  are  they  cousin  Oscar?" 
said  Mary. 

"  No,"  replied  Oscar,  "  seeing  it  's  you,  they  aint 
silly/' 

Mary  was  continuing  her  backward  walk  around 
the  room,  and  was  just  at  that  moment  passing  before 
Jerry,  when  he  suddenly  put  out  his  foot,  and  stum- 
bling over  it,  she  fell  heavily  upon  the  floor,  striking 
her  head  against  a  corner  of  the  sofa.  A  loud  scream 
immediately  followed  this  mishap,  and  as  the  author 
of  it  hastened  to  raise  up  his  sister,  he  was  himself  a 
little  frightened  ;  but  seeing  no  blood  flowing  from 
her  head,  he  concluded  she  was  "  more  scared  than 
hurt,"  and  tried  to  turn  the  afiair  into  a  joke,  saying : 

"  There,  sis,  you  're  a  little  crying  baby  yourself, 
now.  Come,  stop  your  noise ;  you  've  blubbered 
enough    about   it.     It   did  n't   hurt   you,    did   it  ?" 


SENT      TO      BED.  217 

"Come  here,  dear,  what  is  the  matter  ?"  said  Mrs, 
Preston,  who  had  left  the  room  a  moment  before,  and 
hurried  back  on  hearing  Mary  scream. 

"  Jerry  knocked  me  over,"  said  Mary,  sobbing  bit- 
terly, as  her  mother  lifted  her  up  into  her  lap. 

"Where  did  it  hurt  you,  dear  ?— there  ?  Well,  let 
mother  rub  it,  and  it  will  feel  better  soon.  Jerry  is  a 
naughty  boy  to  do  so.  Why  need  you  torment  your 
little  sister  so  ?"  Mrs.  Preston  added,  turning  to  Jerry. 

Mr.  Preston,  who  had  been  sitting  upon  the  door- 
step, smoking  his  pipe,  as  was  his  custom  in  the  even- 
ing, came  in,  on  hearing  the  uproar;  and  having  ascer- 
tained what  the  trouble  was,  he  boxed  Jerry's  ears 
pretty  severely,  and  sent  him  oif  to  bed.  Oscar  soon 
followed  him;  but  Jerry  was  so  mortified  at  the 
rough  handling  he  had  received,  that  he  scarcely  spoke 
again  that  night. 

19 


I 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


IN      THE      WOODS. 


TT  was  soon  evident  that  the  air  of  Brookclale  agreed 
with  Oscar.  He  was  fast  gaining  his  strength,  and 
the  increased  fuhiess  and  color  of  his  countenance  be- 
tokened returning  health.  No  part  of  this  improve- 
ment was  to  be  attributed  to  the  bottle  of  cough 
drops  his  mother  packed  away  in  the  bottom  of  his 
valise,  and  charged  him  to  take  every  morning  and 
night ;  for  the  drops  were  not  very  palatable,  and  he 
had  not  opened  the  bottle  since  he  left  'home.  In  fact, 
he  had  by  this  time  quite  forgotten  both  the  medicine 
and  his  mother's  injunction. 

So  rapid  was  the  improvement  in  Oscar's  health, 
that  two  or  three  days  after  his  trip  to  the  Cross- 
Roads,  Mr.  Preston  gave  his  consent  to  an  excursion 
he  and  Jerry  had  planned,  which  was  to  occupy  a 
whole   day.     "Old   Staple's   Hut,"  as   it  was    called, 


THE      GUN.  219 

was  tlie  place  thej  proposed  to  visit.  It  was  about 
four  miles  distant,  beyond  the  bills  in  the  north-east 
part  of  the  town,  represented  in  the  upper  corner  of 
the  map  of  Brookdale.  They  were  to  carry  their  din- 
ner, and  Mrs.  Preston  accordingly  filled  a  smaH  basket 
with  eatables.  While  she  was  doing  this,  Jerry  took 
Oscar  aside  and  said  : 

"There  is  one  thing  more  we  want,  and  that  is  fa- 
ther's gun.  I  know  he  won't  let  me  have  it,  but  I 
guess  he  would  lend  it  to  you,  if  you  should  ask  him." 

"  Yes,  we  must  have  a  gun,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "  and  I 
should  just  as  lief  ask  him  for  it  as  not." 

Oscar  hunted  up  his  uncle,  and  made  known  his  re- 
quest. Mr.  Preston  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  in- 
quired : 

"  Does  your  father  allow  you  to  use  a  gun  at  home  ?" 

"  He  never  says-  anything  about  it,  either  way,"  re- 
plied Oscar. 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  had  better  not  take  the  gun," 
said  Mr.  Preston.  "  I  'm  afraid  you  might  get  hurt,— 
that 's  all  I  care  about.  I  don't  allow  Jerry  to  use  fire- 
arms, and  I  should  n't  like  to  put  anything  of  the  kind 
into  your  hands  witi^:^.out  your  father's  consent." 


220 


THE     EXCURSION. 


"  But  I  'II  be  very  cai-eful  if  you  '11  let  me  have  it," 
added  Oscar.  "  I  've  fiied  a  gun  several  times,  and 
know  how  to  handle  it." 

"  No,  I  think  you  had  better  not  carry  the  gun  wii' 
you,"  replied  his  uncle.  "If  you  used  it,  Jerry  woul 
think  he  must,  and  I  know  he  is  too  careless' to  I 
trusted  with  it.  He  'd  shoot  you,  just  as  like  as  not,  i 
he  did  n't  kill  himself." 

Mr.  Preston's  tone  was  so  decided,  that  Oscar  saw  i 
would  be  useless  to  say  anything  more  about  the  gun, 
and  so  he  and  Jerry  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  idea 
of  taking  it  with  them.  Taking  their  basket  of  pro- 
visions, they  accordingly  set  out  on  their  long  tramp. 
Leaving  the  road,  and  turning  into  a  footpath  through  the 
fields,  they  passed  close  by  the  upper  edge  of  the  pond. 
In  this  part  of  their  walk  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
swamp  land,  and  a  number  of  brooks  to  cross.  Some- 
times they  had  to  pick  their  way  along  upon  stones 
which  had  been  placed  at  regular  intervals  in  wet 
places,  or  upon  old  logs  that  served  for  bridges  ;  and 
at  times  it  required  no  little  skill  in  balancing  to  avoid 
getting  a  wet  foot.  After  they  had  got  beyond  the 
pond,  however,  the  land  gradually  ascended,  and  was 


THE      BROOKS.  221 

mostly  occupied  as  pastures  for  cattle.  But  tliey  still 
occasionally  came  to  a  brook,  flowing  down  from  the 
hills  towards  the  pond.  Most  of  them  were  so  narrow, 
they  could  easily  jump  over  them  ;  but  in  one  instance 
they  were  obliged  to  take  off  their  shoes  and  stockings 
and  w^ade  across. 

"  ISTow  you  see  why  this  place  is  called  Brookdale," 
said  Jerry,  after  they  had  passed  four  or  five  of  these 
little  streams. 

"Is  that  the  reason,  because  there  are  so  many 
brooks  ?     I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  Oscar. 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  replied  Jerry.  "In  the  spring  these 
brooks  make  quite  a  show  ;  but  they  get  low  in  the 
summer,  and  generally  dry  up  in  August,  unless  it 's  a 
very  wet  season." 

"  I  'm  going  to  cut  me  a  cane,"  said  Oscar,  taking 
out  his  knife  ;  "  I  see  a  real  straight  and  handsome  one 
in  there,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  thicket  they  were  ap- 
proaching. 

"  That 's  nothing  but  birch  — that  won't  make  a  good 

cane,"  replied  Jerry  ;  "  stop  a  minute,  and  I  '11  find  you 

something  better." 

After    looking    about   a   little,   Jerry   found    some 
19* 


222  MAKING     CANES. 

beeches,  which  he  said  would  make  good  canes."  They 
accordingly  cut  two  of  the  straightest  and  handsomest. 

"  I  mean  to  try  an  experiment  with  mine,"  said  Os- 
car, "  and  see  if  I  can't  crook  the  top  of  it.  Do  you 
know  how  they  do  it,  Jerry  ?" 

"No,  I  always  thought  they  grew  in  that  shape,"  re- 
plied Jerry. 

"  A  man  told  me  they  boiled  the  end  of  the  stick 
and  then  bent  it,"  said  Oscar.  "  He  said  that  was  the 
way  all  the  hooked  canes  were  made.  I  don't  know 
whether  he  knew  or  not,  but  I  mean  to  try  it  some 
day,  and  see  how  it  works." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  that,"  said  Jerry.  "  It  is  n't  very 
likely  you  can  bend  such  a  stick  as  that  without  break- 
ing it ;  just  see  how  stiff  it  is." 

"I  don't  care,  I'll  try  it,  just  to  satisfy  myself,"  re- 
plied Oscar. 

Oscar  w^as  right  in  regard  to  bending  Avood.  The 
hooked-top  walking-sticks  are  made  in  the  way  he  de- 
scribed,— by  boiling  the  end,  and  then  bending  it  into 
an  arch.  In  boiling  wood,  several  substances  which 
enter  into  its  composition  are  dissolved,  and  others  are 
softened,  so  that  it  is  rendered  flexible. 


THE      CIGARS.  223 

The  boys  trudged  slowly  on  their  way,  now  aided 
by  their  canes,  which,  in  a  long  walk,  are  of  no  slight 
service  to  the  pedestrian.  As  they  sauntered  along, 
chatting,  singing,  and  whistling,  as  merrily  as  the  birds 
around  them,  Oscar  remembered  the  cigars  he  bought 
at  the  store,  and  soon  the  pure  atmosphere  of  the  fields 
was  polluted  with  the  vile  odor  of  bad  tobacco.  Oscar 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  smoking  occasionally  for  some 
time  ;  but  though  he  considered  it  a  manly  accomplish- 
ment, he  was  very  careful  not  to  let  his  parents  know 
that  he  was  addicted  to  it.  He  prevailed  upon  his 
cousin  to  take  a  cigar ;  but  Jeriy  was  not  very  partial 
to  tobacco,  and  a  few  whifls  satisfied  him  for  that  occa- 
sion. 

They  had  now  reached  the  foot  of  the  long,  steep 
hills,  over  which  they  must  climb.  These  hills  were 
thickly  wooded  most  of  the  way,  forming  beautiful 
groves,  cool,  dark,  fragrant  with  resinous  odors,  and 
softly  carpeted  with  moss  and  decayed  leaves.  Oscar 
and  Jeny  concluded  to  rest  a  few  minutes  before  scal- 
ing the  hills.  Selecting  a  favorable  spot,  they  stretched 
themselves  at  full  length  upon  the  ground,  and  looked 
up  towards  the  distant  tree-tops.     It  was  a  pine  forest, 


234  THE     ROBIN. 

and  the  trees  were  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  so  tall 
that  their  tops  almost  seemed  among  the  clouds.  The 
moaning  of  the  wind  among  the  topmost  branches 
sounded  like  the  distant  roar  of  the  sea.  Birds  were 
skipping  merrily  among  the  "  tasselled  boughs,"  and  cu- 
riously eying  the  young  strangers  who  had  invaded 
their  solitude.  ' 

"  0,  how  I  wish  I  had  that  gun  now  !"  said  Oscar,  as 
a  fine  plump  robin  lit  on  one  of  the  lower  branches  of 
a  tree  right  over  his  head. 

In  repay  for  this  generous  wish,  Signor  Robin  execut- 
ed one  of  his  choicest  songs  in  his  handsomest  style, 
and,  without  waiting  for  an  encore  from  his  audience, 
darted  off  and  was  quickly  out  of  sight.  But  it  is 
probable  the  audience  thought  more  of  the  "  good 
shot"  he  presented,  than  of  the  sweet  strains  he  poured 
forth  for  their  entertainment. 

"There's  better  game  than  that  in  these  woods,"  said 
Jerry,  after  the  robin  had  taken  his  departure. 

"  Is  there  anything  besides  birds  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Y^,"  replied  Jerry,  "  there  are  rabbits,  and  wood- 
chucks,  and  weasels,  and  skunks,  and  squirrels  ;  and 
some  folks  say  there  are  wild-cats  here,  but  I  don't 


WILD     ANIMALS.  225 

know  about  that.  Jim  Oakley,  a  fellow  who  lives 
about  a  mile  from  our  house,  comes  over  here  gunning 
very  often  ;  and  he  says  he  saw  a  real  savage-looking 
creature  here,  a  few  weeks  ago,  that  he  took  to  be  a 
wild-cat.  He  fired  at  it,  but  it  got  clear  of  him.  He 
says  it  looked  a  good  deal  like  a  cat,  only  it  was 
larger,  and  had  a  httle  short  tail.  I  wish  he  'd  killed 
it.  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  was.  I  never  saw 
a  wild-cat ;  did  you  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  But  that  was  n't  equal  to  something  a  man  came 
across  in  the  woods  the  other  side  of  these  hills,  two  o? 
three  years  ago,"  continued  Jerry.  "What  do  you 
suppose  it  was?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  was  it  a  moose  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  No,"  replied  Jerry  ;  "  moose  come  down  into  this 
neighborhood,  once  -in  awhile,  but  that  was  n't  what 
I  was  going  to  tell  you  about.  There  is  a  road  through 
these  woods,  a  httle  beyond  the  hills.  It  is  n't  trav- 
elled much,  except  by  the  loggers  in  the  fall  and 
spring.  A  man  was  riding  along  this  road,  one  after- 
noon in  summer,  when  he  suddenly  came  across  a 
monstrous  black  bear.     As  soon  as  the  bear  saw  him. 


226  MEETING     A     BEAR. 

he  squat  down  on  his  haunches,  right  in  the  middle 
of  the  road,  and  began  to  show  his  teeth.  The  man 
did  n't  dare  to  drive  by  him,  and  his  horse  was  so 
frightened  that  it  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  hold 
him  in.  He  had  a  loaded  revolver  with  him,  but  he 
knew  there  was  n't  much  hope  of  killing  the  bear  with 
that.  So  he  turned  his  horse  about,  and  concluded  to 
go  back  to  the  nearest  house,  and  get  a  gun  and  some- 
body to  help  him  kill  the  bear.  The  bear  sat  still, 
watching  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  If  you  'II  let  me 
alone,  I  '11  let  you  alone  ;'  but  just  as  the  man  was 
starting  up,  he  thought  he  would  try  his  pistol,  and  so 
he  blazed  away  at  the  bear.  Two  or  three  of  the  shot 
hit  the  bear  in  the  shoulder.  They  did  n't  hurt  him 
much,  only  enough  to  rouse  his  dander ;  but  he  sprang 
up  as  quick  as  lightning,  and  started  after  the  team. 
The  man  whipped  up  his  horse,  and  the  bear  '  pulled 
foot'  after  him,  and  did, n't  give  up  the  race  till  he  had 
run  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The  man  said  if  he 
had  been  afoot,  the  bear  would  have  beat  him  at  run- 
ning, but  he  could  n't  keep  up  with  the  horse. 

"  Well,  the  man  went  back  three  or  four  miles,  and 
^ot  another  man  to  go  with  him  in  search  of  the  bear. 


WHERE      HE      CAME      FROM.  227 

They  armed  themselv^es  with  guns  and  hunting-knives  ; 
but  when  they  drove  back  to  where  the  man  met  the 
bear,  they  could  n't  find  anything  of  him.  They  traced 
his  tracks  into  the  woods,  but  after  awhile  they  lost 
them,  and  as  it  was  getting  late,  they  gave  up  the 
hunt ;  and  nobody  hereabouts  has  seen  that  bear  from 
that  day  to  this." 

"  Perhaps  he's  about  here  now — who  knows  ?"  said 
Oscar. 

"  No,  I  guess  he  went  right  back  to  the  place  he 
came  from,"  replied  Jerry.  "  Somebody  would  have 
seen  him,  if  he  'd  stayed  around  here." 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  he  came  from  ?"  inquired 
Oscar. 

"  From  way  back  in  the  woods,  fifty  miles  from  here," 
replied  Jerry.  "  There  had  been  great  fires  in  the 
woods  that  summer,  -and  I  suppose  he  got  burned 
out,  or  frightened,  and  that  was  the  reason  he  came 
down  this  way." 

"  I  should  like  to  meet  such  a  customer,"  said  Oscar  ; 
" only  I  should  want  to  have  a  good  double-barielled 
gun  with  me.  I  read  in  a  newspaper,  the  other  day, 
about  a  boy  up  in  New  Hampshire,  who  met  a  bear 


^ 


228  PROSPECT      ROCK. 

and  two  cubs,  all  alone  in  the  woods.  He  had  a  gun 
with  him,  and  killed  the  old  one,  and  one  of  the  cubs ; 
but  the  other  cub  got  off.  That  was  doifig  pretty  well, 
was  n't  it  ?" 

"  'Twas'so,"  said  Jerry  ;  "  but  I  guess  you  would  n't 
have  done  quite  so  well  as  that." 

"  I  bet  I  should  have  tried,  at  any  rate,"  said  Oscar, 
who  really  was  not  deficient  in  courage,  though  he  had 
hardly  practiced  hunting  enough  to  justify  him  in  be- 
lieving that  be  could  master  so  savage  an  animal  as  a 
bear. 

Having  rested  themselves,  the  boys  resumed  their 
journey,  and  after  ten  minutes'  hard  work,  reached  the 
top  of  the  range  of  hills.  The  highest  summit  was  a 
bare  ledge  of  rock,  and  they  concluded  to  climb  to  the 
top  of  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  view  to  be  obtained.  It 
was  called  •'  Prospect  Eock,"  and  was  very  appropriately 
named.  As  the  hojs  stood  upon  it,  the  country  for 
miles  around  was  spread  out  at  their  feet, — houses,  and 
cultivated  fields,  and  forests,  and  roads,  and  narrow 
streams.  A  distant  mountain  was  visible  in  the  west, 
which  Jeriy^  said  was  about  twenty  miles  off,  though  it 
seemed  much  nearer.     After  enjoying  the  scene  a  few 


THE      WOODCHUCk's      HOLE.  229 

minutes,  they  began  to  descend  tlie  bill  on  tbe  other 
side.  They  kept  their  eyes  open,  for  game,  but  they 
saw  only  a  few  squirrels,  and  one  rabbit,  which  bounded 
off,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment.  Jerry  pointed 
out  to  Oscar  a  woodchuck's  hole,  near  the  foot  of  the 
hilL 

"  I  should  like  to  see  a  woodchuck,"  said  Oscar ; 
"  what  do  they  look  like  ?" 

"  They  're  about  as  big  as  a  rabbit,  and  are  of  a 
brownish  color,"  replied  Jerry. 

"Do  you  suppose  there's  one  in  that  hole?"  inquired 
Oscar  ;  "  let's  see  if  we  can't  scare  him  out." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  there  is  or  not,"  replied 
Jerry  ;  "  but  if  there  was,  we  could  n't  dig  him  out 
without  shovels.  They  burrow  real  deep.  If  we  had 
brought  a  dog  with  us,  how  he  would  dig  into  that 
hole !" 

"  I  wish  I  had  my  Tiger  here,"  said  Oscar  ;  "  it 's  too 
bad  father  would  n't  let  me  bring  him  with  me." 

Oscar  thrust  his  cane  into  the  hole,  but  did  not  reach 

the  end  of  it;  and  if  the  occupant   of  the  tenement 

was  within,  he  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  show 

himself.     The  boys  accordingly  renewed  their  journey. 
20 


230  THE      HUT. 

After  tliey  had  reacbed  the  foot  of  the  Iiill,  tliej  nad  to 
cross  a  swamp.  With  its  wet  and  miry  bottom,  and 
its  dense  growth  of  vines,  bushes,  and  small  trees,  this 
was  no  easy  matter  ;  but  they  succeeded  in  gettting 
through  with  no  damage  save  wet  feet,  a  few  slight 
scratches,  and  a  good  many  mosquito  bites.  This  lat- 
ter trouble  was  the  most  serious  of  all.  The  mosquitoes 
were  large  and  ferocious.  They  bit  right  through 
jacket,  vest,  and  all,  and  Oscar  declared  that  their 
sharp  stings  even  penetrated  his  boots. 

After  the  boys  emerged  fi'om  the  swamp,  they  came 
to  the  road  in  which  the  man  met  a  bear.  They  fol- 
lowed this  road  a  short  distance,  till  it  brought  them  to 
the  shore  of  a  large  and  beautiful  pond.  Leaving  the 
highway,  they  now  \yalked  along  by  the  edge  of  the 
water,  and  soon  came  to  the  old  hut  they  were  in  pur- 
suit  of.  It  was  but  a  few  rods  from  the  pond,  and  was 
directly  under  the  brow  of  a  steep  and  rocky  hill.  It 
had  a  very  old  and  decayed  appearance.  The  roof  had 
fallen  in,  the  door  had  disappeared,  and  the  single  win- 
dow was  without  sash  or  glass.  It  contained  but  one 
apartment,  and  that  waS  very  small,  and  so  choked  up 
with  rubbish  that  the  boys  did  not  try  to  enter. 


THE      HERMIT.  231 

"  Well,  that  must  have  been  a  great  place  for  a  man 
to  live  in,"  said  Oscar,  after  he  had  inspected  the  prem- 
ises.    "  How  long  has  the  old  fellow  been  dead  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jerry  ;  "  it  must  be  fifteen 
years,  for  he  died  before  I  was  born." 

"  I  wonder  what  he  lived  here  for  ;  does  anybody 
know  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"No,  he  was  a  hermit,  and  that's  all  anybody  knows 
about  him.  They  say  he  used  to  have  a  garden,  and 
raised  everything  he  wanted  to  eat.  In  the  summer 
time  he  used  to  work  a  good  deal  for  two  or  three 
farmers  that  lived  over  at  Cedar  Hill,  at  the  further  end 
of  the  pond.  He  had  a  little  skiff,  and  rowed  back  and 
forth  in  that.  He  never  used  to  spend  any  money,  and 
people  say  he  must  have  had  all  of  a  thousand  dollars, 
that  he  had  earned,  when  he  died ;  but  nobody  knew 
*what  became  of  it.  They  suppose  he  buried  it  about 
here  somewhere,  or  hid  it  in  some  rock." 

"  A  thousand  dollars  !"  said  Oscar  ;  "  I  'm  going  to 
hunt  for  that ;  what  will  you  bet  I  won't  find  it  ?" 

"  Pooh !"  replied  Jerry,  "  people  have  searched  all 
round  here,  and  dug  holes,  and  pulled  up  the  floor  of 


232  THE      FIRE. 

the  hut,  more  than  a  hundred  times ;  and  I  guesa 
there's  no  danger  of  your  finding  the  money  now." 

"  I  'm  going  to  try,  at  any  rate,"  said  Oscar,  and  he 
got  up  from  the  stone  upon  which  he  was  seated. 

"  Stop,  don't  go  now,"  said  Jerry  ;  '"  let's  make  a  fire 
nd  get  dinner  first — I  'm  ju§t  about  half  starved." 

Oscar  fell  in  with  this  suggestion,  and  they  gathered 
together  a  lot  of  brush  and  other  dry  wood,  and  soon 
had  a  good  fire  kindled  against  a  large  stone,  which 
happened  to  be  hollowed  out  something  like  a  fire- 
place. Among  the  provisions  they  had  brought  with 
them  were  half  a  dozen  potatoes,  which  they  buried 
in  the  embers  after  the  fire  had  got  well  under  way. 
While  these  were  baking,  they  employed  themselves  in 
gathering  wood  and  watching  the  fire.  They  also 
found  some  slices  of  cheese  in  their  basket,  which  they 
toasted  by  holding  it  before  the  fire  upon  the  point  of 
a  sharp  stick.  When  their  preparations  for  dinner 
were  about  completed,  Oscar  inquired  : 

"Where  shall  we  find  some  water  to  drink?  Is 
there  a  spring  about  here  ?" 

"  Water,  why,  there 's  plenty  of  it,"  replied  Jerry 
pointing  to  the  pond. 


DINNER      IN     THE      WOOD 


233 


*'Wliat!  you  don't  mean  to  drink  pond  water,  do 
you  ?"  said  Oscar,  somewhat  surprised. 

"  Yes  I  do,"  replied  Jerry  ;  "  that 's  good  water — 
old  Staples  drank  it  all  the  time  he  lived  here." 


"  Well,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  suppose  it  is  good," 

said   Oscar  ;  "  for  our  Cochituate   water,  in  Boston,  is 

nothing  but  pond   water.     It  seems  queer,  though,  to 

dip  it  right  out  of  the  pond  ;  but  I  suppose  it  is  just  as 

good  as  though  we  drew  it  from  an  aqueduct." 
20* 


234  DINNER. 

There  was  a  tin  dipper  in  the  basket,  and  Oscar  took 
it,  and  went  down  to  the  pond,  to  try  tlie  water.  He  ' 
found  it  clear,  and  agi-eeable  to  the  taste,  though  not 
very  cold.  Filling  the  dipper,  he  returned  to  the  fire, 
where  Jerry  now  had  the  dinner  in  readiness.  They 
found  a  large  flat  stone,  which  answered  for  a  table, 
and  spreading  their  provisions  upon  it,  they  threw 
themselves  upon  the  grass,  and  began  to  eat.  The 
potatoes  were  nicely  roasted,  and,  indeed,  all  the  ar- 
ticles that  helped  to  form  their  rural  repast,  tasted  un- 
commonly Vt'ell.  Even  the  pond  water,  Oscar  con- 
fessed, would  have  been  equal  to  the  Cochituate,  if 
they  had  only  had  a  little  ice  to  put  in  it. 

After  dinner,  Oscar  commenced  his  search  for  the 
hidden  treasures,  and  Jerry,  impelled  by  sympathy, 
joined  in  the  hunt,  though  with  no  very  sanguine 
expectations  of  finding  the  hermit's  gold.  They  ex- 
amined the  hut,  and  poked  over  the  rubbish,  within 
and  about  it.  They  walked  over  the  ground,  around 
the  cabin,  turning  over  stones,  looking  after  holes  in 
the  trunks  of  trees,  and  peering  curiously  into  every 
crack  and  crevice  they  could  find.  They  then  climbed 
up  the  rocks  behind  the  hut,  and  patiently  continued 


HUNTING     FOR     GOLD. 


235 


their  search,  talking  earnestly,  the  meanwhile,  about 
what  they  should  do  with  the  money,  if  they  found  it. 
Oscar  said  if  he  found  the  money,  he  should  buy  the 
best  horse  he  could  find.  He  should  not  go  to  school 
any  more,  but  should  spend  his  time  in  riding,  and 
going  to  places  of  amusement.  If  his  father  did  not 
like  it,  he  should  leave  home,  and  board  at  a  hotel. 
Jerry,  on  the  other  hand,  wanted  to  see  the  world.  If 
he  found  the  money,  he  was  going  to  travel  'all  over 
the  country.  After  visiting  the  great  Atlantic  cities, 
he  should  go  to  California,  and  stop  a  few  months, 
just  long  enough  to  dig  a  few  thousand  dollars  out  of 
the  mines — and  then  he  should  push^  on  to  China,  and 
India,  and  Europe,  and  come  home  in  one  of  the  Col- 
lins steamers.  It  was  finally  agreed,  however,  that  if 
either  of  them  found  the  treasure,  it  should  be  equally 
divided  between  them,  and  with  this  friendly  under- 
standing, they  renewed  their  search,  with  fresh  zeal. 

"  It 's  real  hot ;  what  do  you  say  about  going  into 
water  ?"  inquired  Oscar,  after  they  had  ransacked  the 
neighborhood  pretty  thoroughly,  and  worked  them- 
selves into  a  perspiration. 

*'  I  '11  go  in  if  you  will,"  said  Jerry.     "  Father  did  n't 


236  BATHING. 

tell  us  not  to  go  in  to-day — I  was  afraid  he  would  ;  but 
he  did  n't  say  anything  about  it." 

"  He  need  n't  know  it,  if  we  do  go  in,"  suggested 
Oscar,  who  knew  very  well  that  his  uncle  would  not 
approve  of  his  bathing  so  early  in  the  season,  and  so 
soon  after  his  sickness. 

"No,  he  won't  know  anything  about  it,"  added 
Jerry ;  "  and  I  don't  believe  it  can  do  us  any  hurt,  for 
it  is  as  warm  as  it  is  in  the  middle  of  summer.  I  've 
been  into  water  many  a  time,  when  it  was  colder  than 
it  is  now." 

They  did  not  debate  the  question  long,  but  throwing 
off  their  clothes,  they  soon  plunged  into  the  clear  lake. 
The  water  did  not  feel  quite  so  warm  to  their  bodies, 
as  it  tasted  when  they  washed  down  their  dinner  with 
it.  Still,  it  was  not  very  cold ;  and  as  the  place  was 
quite  convenient  for  bathing,  having  a  hard,  gravelly 
bottom,  with  a  gradual  slope,  they  enjoyed  their  dip 
in  the  water  as  well  as  they  could  enjoy  a  forbidden 
gratification. 

After  they  had  dressed  themselves,  they  sat  a  little 
while  with  their  caps  off,  that  the  warm  sun  might  dry 
their  hair,  and  thus  remove  all  evidence  of  their  stolen 


GOING      HOME.  237 

pleasure.  This  accomplished,  they  con^uded,  fiom  the 
position  of  the  sun,  that  it  was  time  to  start  for  home^ 
and  taking  their  basket  and  canes,  they  commenced 
their  homeward  march.  They  met  with  no  incident 
of  any  moment  in  returning,  except  that  they  got  off 
their  course  at  one  time ;  but  Jerry,  who  was  quite  at 
home  in  the  woods,  soon  found  where  he  was,  and  set 
himself  right  again.  The  last  two  miles  of  their  jaunt 
were  the  hardest  of  all,  especially  to  Oscar,  who  was 
more  troubled  with  sore  feet  and  stiff  legs  than  Jerry. 
They  were  both,  however,  as  tired  and  hungry  as  need 
be,  when  they  got  home. 

No  questions  were  asked  about  their  going  into 
water.  This  was  fortunate,  for  it  probably  saved  them 
from  the  additional  guilt  of  fjilsehood.  They  expe- 
rienced no  punishment  for  their  disobedience,  except 
the  consciousness  that  they  had  committed  a  wrong 
act.  To  some  boys,  that  alone  would  have  been  no 
slight  punishment ;  but  I  fear  this  was  not  the  case 
with  Oscar  and  Jeny. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


CLINTON. 


"  /^OME,  Jerry,  let 's  go  over  to  Clinton's  this  fore- 
non,"  said  Oscar,  the  morning  after  their  excur- 
sion to  the  hermit's  hut . 

*'  Agreed,"  replied  Jerry,  "  we  '11  start  right  away  as 
soon  as  I  can  find  my  cap.  Let  me  see — where  did  I 
leave  it,  T  wonder  ?" 

"  Jerry,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  who  overheard  this  con- 
versation, "bring  me  in  an  armfull  of  wood  before  you 
go." 

"  I  '11  get  the  wood  while  you  're  looking  for  your 
cap,"  said  Oscar,  and  he  started  for  the  wood-house. 

Oscar  almost  repented  of  his  offer  when  he  discover 
ed  that  there  was  no  wood  split.  However,  he  took 
the  axe  and  split  a  few  logs,  and  carried  them  into  the 
kitchen.     Jerry  had  not  yet  found  his  cap,  though  ho 


THE     LOST      CAP.  239 

had  searched  all  over  the  house  for  it.  He  began  to 
suspect  some  one  had  played  a  trick  upon  him  by  hid- 
ing his  cap,  and  when  Emily  laughed  at  his  impatience, 
he  concluded  she  was  the  guilty  one.  In  vain  she  pro- 
tested that  she  had  not  seen  the  missing  cap,  and  did 
not  know  where  it  was.  He  searched  every  part  of  the 
girls'  chamber,  and  then,  in  his  vexation,  he  pulled 
Emily's  bonnet  from  off  her  head,  and  tossed  it  out  of 
the  tv'indow  into  an  apple-tree,  in  the  branches  of 
which  it  lodged. 

It  was  now  Emily's  turn  to  fly  into  a  pet,  and  she 
availed  herself  of  the  opportunity.  Running  to  her 
mother,  she  reported  what  Jerry  had  done,  setting  off 
his  foolish  conduct  in  the  worst  possible  light.  Jerry 
soon  made  his  appearance  in  the  kitchen,  and  retorted 
upon  his  sister  by  charging  her  with  having  hid  his 
cap.  Mrs.  Preston  tried  to  settle  the  difficulty  by  di- 
recting Jerry  to  get  Emily's  bonnet  out  of  the  tree,  and 
ordering  Emily  to  tell  Jerry  where  his  cap  was,  if  she 
knew;  but  Emily  protested  she  knew  nothing  about 
the  cap,  and  her  brother  did  not  seem  inclined  to  obey 
his  portion  of  the  decree,  while  his  sister  failed  to  com- 
ply with  hers.     The  quarrel  was  thus  becoming  mora 


240  BUTTERMILK. 

and  more  complicated,  when  Oscar  suddenly  entered 
the  room  with  the  lost  cap  in  his  hand. 

"  Here*s  your  cap,  Jerry,"  he  said  ;  "  I  found  it  just 
where  you  left  it  last  night,  out  in  the  barn.  Don't 
you  remember,  you  threw  it  at  the  cat  to  scare  her  ?" 

"  O  yes,  so  I  did,  and  I  forgot  to  pick  it  up  again," 
said  Jerry. 

"  There,  do  you  believe  me  now  V  said  Emily,  with 
an  air  of  triumph. 

Jerry  ,did  not  stop  to  reply  ;  but,  going  into  the  gar- 
den, he  climbed  the  apple-ti-ee,  and  tossed  the  bonnet 
down  to  Emily. 

"  Now  I  'm- ready  to  start,  just  as  soon  as  I  've  had  a 
drink  of  buttermilk,"  said  Jerry  to  Oscar  ;  "  come  into 
the  buttery  and  get  some,  won't  you  ?" 

There  was  only  one  bowl-full  of  buttermilk  left  from 
the  morning's  churning,  but  Mrs.  Preston  told  the  boys 
they  might  have  that.  Jerry  proposed  that  they  should 
"go  snacks,"  and  gave  the  bowl  to  Oscar  that  he  mig-^lit 
drink  his  share  first.  The  latter  took  one  mouthful, 
but  quickly  spit  it  out,  and  puckered  his  face  into  all 
sorts  of  shapes. 

"  Ugh !"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  don't  call  that  sour  stuff 


THE      HENS.  241 

good,  do  you  ?"  and  he  handed  the  bowl  back  to  Jeny, 
with  a  look  that  would  have  soured  the  buttermilk,  if 
it  had  not  already  undergone  that  process. 
•  As  soon  as  Jerry  could  get  over  laughing  at  his  cou- 
sin's grimaces,  he  swallowed  the  contents  of  the  bowl, 
and  then,  smacking  his  lips,  said  : 

"  There,  don't  you  think  I  like  it  ?  You  just  drink 
it  a  few  times,  and  then  see  if  you  don't  hke  it,  too.  I 
could  drink  a  quart  of  it  now  if  I  had  it." 

"  You  may  have  it,  for  all  me  ;  I  don't  want  any 
more  of  it,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Jerry,  have  the  hens  been  attended  to?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Preston,  as  the  boys  were  about/starting  from 
home. 

"  I  don't  know — I  have  n't  fed  them,"  replied  Jerry. 

"  You  ought  to  know  whether  they  are  seen  to  or 
not ;  it 's  your  business  to  take  care  of  them,"  said  his 
mother.  "  Don't  you  go  off  this  morning  till  you  have 
fed  them.     You  ouo-ht  to  have  done  it  an  hour  Tio-o." 

The  care  of  the  fowls  had  been  committed  to  Jerry, 

but  he  did  not  feel  much  interest  in  them,  and  needed 

to  be  reminded  of  his  duty  pretty  often.      His  negli- 

gence  had  been  more  marked  than  ever  since  Oscar's  ar- 
21 


242  A      MYSTERIOUS      LETTER. 

rival,  and  more  than  once  the  hens  had  been  without 
food  and  water  nearly  a  whole  day  because  he  forgot  to 
attend  to  them.  Jeriy  now  went  back,  in  obedience  to 
his  mother,  and  gave  the  fowls  their  nsual  allowance  of 
corn,  and  a  vessel  of  fresh  water.  He  also  looked  into 
the  nests  to  see  if  there  were  any  new-laid  eggs  ;  and 
he  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  in  one  of  them  a 
small  billet,  neatly  folded  up,  and  addressed,  "  To  Mas- 
ter Jerry y  He  looked  at  it  a  moment,  and  tried  to 
imagine  what  it  could  be  ;  then  he  opened  it,  and  read 
the  following,  Avhich  was  neatly  written  with  a  pencil  : 

"The  Henroost,  June  12th. 
"  Master  Jerry  : 

"  I  have  determined  to  write  you  a  few  words 
in  behalf  of  my  dear  suffei-ing  family.  Tlie  sun  is 
scorching  hot,  and  yet  Ave  have  not  got  a  drop  of  water 
to  save  us  from  parching  up.  My  poor  biddies  have 
been  walking  back  and  forth  all  day,  panting  for  water, 
and  calling  for  it  as  plainly  as  they  could  speak  ;  but 
all  in  vain.  We  have  received  our  food  at  very  irregu- 
lar times,  too,  and  sometimes  we  have  had  to  keep  fiist 
nearly  all  day.  If  I  were  the  only  sufferer,  I  would 
say  nothing  about  it ;  but  I  cannot  bear  to  see  my  poor 
flock  dying  by  inches  in  this  way.  Do  take  pity  on 
us,  and  see  that  we  have  plenty  of  corn  and  water 
hereafter.     Some  of  my  family,  who  pride  themselves 


THE    rooster's    complaint.       243 

on  being  good  layers,  complain  that  since  you  have 
kept  us  shut  up  in  such  narrow  quarters  they  cannot 
find  anything  to  make  their  egg-shells  of.  Now,  if  you 
would  give  us  some  old  burnt  bones,  pounded  up  fine, 
or  a  little  lime,  once  in  awhile,  I  do  not  think  you 
would  lose  anything  by  it.  And  as  you  will  not  let  us 
go  out  to  scratch  for  ourselves,  what  is  the  reason  tha 
you  cannot  dig  us  a  few  worms  occasionally  ?  It  would 
be  a  great  treat  to  us.  I  hope  you  will  heed  my  sug- 
gestions. If  you  do  not,  I  can  assure  you  of  two  things  : 
you  won't  have  many  eggs  this  summer ;  and  fat  chick- 
ens will  be  a  scarce  article  in  this  neighborhood  next 
Thanksgiving  time.  But  Mrs.  Yellowneck  has  just  laid 
an  egg,  and  I  must  help  her  cackle  over  it ;  so  I  will 
write  nothing  more  at  present,  but  sign  myself 
"  Your  faithful,  but  afflicted, 

"  Shanghae  Rooster." 

Before  Jerry  had  finished  reading  this  mysterious 
letter,  Oscar,  who  wondered  at  his  long  absence,  went 
to  see  what  the  matter  was,  and  found  his  cousin  deep- 
ly absorbed  in  the  document.  After  Jerry  had  read  it, 
he  handed  it  to  Oscar,  telling  him  where  he  found  it. 

"  Well,  that  is  queer,"  said  Oscar,  after  he  had  rea 
it.     "  Who  do  you  suppose  wrote  it  ?" 

"I  know  where  it  carae  from  well  enough,"  said 
Jerry  •  *'  keep  dark — don't  say  anything  about  it,"  he 


244  CLINTON.  ' 

added,  as  he  put  the  letter  in  his  pocket.  Then  step- 
ping to  the  kitchen-window,  he  inquired,  "  Mother,  was 
Clinton  over  here  yesterday  ?" 

"  I  believe  he  was,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston. 

"  That  accounts  for  it,"  said  Jerry  to  Oscar  ;  ''  that 
etter  sounds  just  like  Clinton.  I  knew  he  wrote  it 
just  as  soon  as  I  saw  it." 

"  But  can  he  Aviite  as  well  as  that  ?"  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  he 's  a  very  good  writer,"  replied  Jerry. 
"He  ought  to  be,  for  he  has  to  get  a  lesson  every 
day,  just  as  though  he  went  to  school,  and  recite  to  his 
mother  in  the  evening.  I  wish  I  knew  as  much  as  he 
does,  but  I  should  n't  want  to  study  so  hard." 

They  had  now  started  on  their  way  to  Clinton's. 
The  Shanghae  letter  continued  to  be  the  topic  of  re- 
mark for  some  time.  It  was  finally  concluded  that 
they  should  say  nothing  to  Clinton  about  it.  To  tell 
the  truth,  Jeny  felt  a  little  mortified  at  the  deserved 
rebuke  he  had  received,  and  he  thought  the  easiest 
way  to  get  over  it  would  be,  to  pretend  that  the  letter 
had  never  reached  its  destination. 

Clinton  Davenport,  the  suspected  author  of  this  letter, 
lived  in  the  nearest  house  to  Mr.  Preston's.     The  house 


HIS      HOME.  245 

is  marked  1,  on  the  map  of  Brookdale.  He  was  three 
or  four  months  younger  than  Jerry,  and,  like  him,  was 
an  only  son.  They  had  been  intimate  playmates  from 
early  childhood,  though  their  tastes  and  dispositions 
were  very  different.  Clinton  was  an  industrious  boy. 
He  liked  to  work,  and  took  an  inteiest  in  all  his  father's 
plans  and  labors.  He  was  an  ingenious  boy,  too; 
and,  in  addition  to  his  other  commendable  traits,  he 
was  a  good  scholar. 

Oscar  had  seen  Clinton  once  or  twice,  at  Jerry's 
house,  but  this  was  his  first  visit  to  him.  They 
soon  came  in  the  sight  of  the  house.  It  was  a  neat, 
but  plain  cottag;^,  situated  near  the  foot  of  a  hill. 
There  were  several  noble  oaks  around  it,  and  many 
fruit  trees  in  the  rear.  Luxuriant  vines  were  trained 
around  and  over  the  front  door.  A  large  and  substan- 
tial barn  stood  a  little  one  side,  and  back  from  the  road, 
with  its  great  doors  swung  open.  On  a  tall  pole,  be- 
hind the  house,  there  was  a  complete  miniature  of  the 
cottage,  which  appeared  to  be  occupied  by  a  family  of 
birds,  who  were  constantly  flying  back  and  forth.  This 
pretty  birdhouse  Clinton  had  made  with  his  own  hands 

the  previous  winter. 

21* 


246  CATERPILLARS. 

When  Oscar  and  Jerry  reached  the  house,  they  saw 
Clinton  doing  something  in  the  orchard,  behind  the 
buildings,  and  they  walked  along  towards  him.  They 
found  him  employed  in  destroying  caterpillars'  nests, 
in  the  apple-trees.  He  had  a  light  ladder,  with  which 
he  ascended  the  trees  ;  and  having  his  hands  protected 
by  a  pair  of  old  gloves,  he  swept  down  the  nests,  and 
destroyed  the  young  caterpillars  by  the  hundred. 

"  This  is  n't  very  pleasant  work,"  said  Clinton,  "  but 
it  has  got  to  be  done.  I've  been  all  over  the  orchard 
this  morning,  and  this  is  the  last  tree  I  've  got  to  ex- 
amine. I  shall  be  done  in  a  few  minutes,  and  then  I'll 
walk  around  with  you." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  all  these  caterpillars 
come  from,"  said  Oscar  ;  "  do  they  come  up  from  the 
ground  ?" 

"No,''  replied  Clinton.  "A  miller  lays  the  eggs, 
the  summer  before,  on  a  branch  of  the  tree,  and  there 
they  -stay  till  about  the  first  of  June ;  then  they  hatch 
out,  and  build  their  nest.  The  nests  look  something 
like  tents,  don't  you  see  they  do  ?" 

"  Yes,  so  they  do,"  said  Oscar. 

"  That 's  the  reason  they  are  called  tent-caterpillars. 


.^■■ 


1* 


LITTLE      TURKEYS.  247 

There  are  three  or  four  hundred  of  them  iu  every  nest. 
In  about  a  month  from  now,  they  would  all  turn  into 
millers,  if  nobody  disturbed  them,  and  lay  millions  of 
eggs  for  next  year's  crop." 

"  That  's  curious — I  've  learnt  something  new  by 
coming  here,"  said  Oscar. 

"  There,  I  beheve  that 's  all,"  said  Clinton,  as  he 
cast  his  eye  over  the  tree ;  "  now  come  and  see  my 
turkeys." 

Jerry  slyly  winked  at  Oscar,  and  both  thought  of 
the  Shanghae  rooster's  letter;  but  they  said  nothing, 
and  followed  Clinton  to  a  tree  near  the  barn,  where 
there  was  a  large,  motherly  hen,  surrounded  by  her 
happy  brood.  They  were  young  turkeys,  but  it  was 
all  the  same  to  the  poor  simple  hen.  She  had  set  four 
weeks  upon  the  eggs  from  which  they  were  hatched, 
and  no  wonder  she  honestly  believed  they  were  her  own 
children.  To  confess  the  truth,  they  did  look  so  much 
like  chickens,  that  a  city  boy  like  Oscar  would  hardly 
have  suspected  they  were  turkeys,  if  he  had  not  been 
told  that  they  were.  They  were  black,  and  of  about 
the  size  of  chickens  of  their  age.  They  had  also  the 
sharp,  piping  cry  of  genuine  chickens.     But  their  necks 


248  THE      CHICKENS. 

were  a  little  longer  than  usual,  and  that  was  almost  the 
only  badge  of  their  turkey  hood.  The  hen  was  confined 
to  the  tree  by  a  string,  to  prevent  her  roving  off.  A 
barrel  turned  upon  its  side,  served  them  for  a  house  at 
night. 

There  was  another  hen,  confined  under  a  tree  near 
by,  which  was  the  proud  mother  of  a  large  brood  of 
chickens.  There  were  about  twenty-five  of  them,  but 
though  they  now  constituted  one  brood,  they  were 
hatched  by  two  hens.  Clinton  said  he  usually  managed 
to  set  two  hens  together,  so  that  one  of  them  might 
bring  up  all  the  chickens,  thereby  saving  some  trouble 
for  himself,  as  well  as  one  hen's  time,  which  was  of 
some  value  to  him.  Hens  do  not  seem  to  have  much 
knowledge  of  arithmetic,  and  biddy  was  apparently  un- 
conscious of  any  difference  between  twelve  and  five-and- 
twenty. 

A  loud  and  prolonged  "  Cock-a-doodle-do-o-o-o"  now 
attracted  Oscar  to  the  hen-yard  near  by,  behind  the 
barn,  where  the  rest  of  Clinton's  poultry  were  confined. 
It  was  a  large  enclosure,  connected  with  a  shed,  in  which 
the  fowls  roosted  and  laid  their  eggs.  Its  occupants, 
and  indeed  all  the  poultry  on  the  place  were  the  ex- 


4 


MAKING      MONEY.  249 

elusive  property  of  Clinton,  and  he  took  the  entire  man- 
agement of  them  in  his  own  hands.  He  raised  the 
corn  they  consumed  on  a  patch  of  ground  his  father 
gave  him  for  the  purpose.  He  sold  his  eggs,  chickens, 
and  turkeys  to  whom  he  pleased,  and  kept  a  regular 
account  in  a  book  of  all  his  business  transactions.  Of 
course,  all  the  money  he  made  was  his  own,  and  he  told 
Oscar  he  had  nearly  seventy-five  dollars  in  the  bank, 
which  he  had  earned  in  this  way. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  do  it,"  said  Jerry ;  "  I  could  n't 
make  anything  that  way  if  I  should  try.  I  don't  be- 
lieve our  hens  more  than  pay  their  way,  if  they  do 
that." 

"  If  you  should  manage  as  I  do,  I  guess  you  would 
make  something,"  replied  Clinton. 

*'  1*^0,  it  is  n't  my  luck,"  said  Jerry ;  "  if  I  worked 
ever  so  hard,  I  should  n't  be  any  better  off  for  it." 

'"  I  don't  believe  that,"  said  Clinton  ;  "  there  's  no 
luck  about  it.  Any  boy  could  make  out  just  as  well  as 
I  have  done,  if  he  took  the  same  trouble.  You  try  it, 
now,  and  see." 

"  No,  I  shan't  try,  for  I  know  just  as  well  as  I  want 
to,  how  it  would  turn  out,"  rephed  Jerry. 


250  THE      BARN. 

"How  can  you  know  if  you  never  tried  it?"  inquired 
Clinton. 

Jerry  did  not  answer  this  question,  and  perhaps  he 
could  not.  He  preferred  to  comfort  himself  with  the 
foolish  plea  of  the  lazy,  that  he  was  not  one  of  "  the 
lucky  ones,"  and  it  was  useless  for  him  to  think  of  suc- 
ceeding in  anything  of  that  kind. 

Clinton  did  not  make  the  most  distant  allusion  to 
the  Shanghae  Rooster's  letter,  although  Jerry  felt  sure 
that  he  knew  all  about  it.  The  latter  also  avoided  all 
reference  to  it.  Oscar  could  hardly  keep  from  intro- 
ducing the  matter,  but  his  cousin's  injunction  to  "keep 
dark"  prevailed,  and  he  was  able  to  restrain  his  impa- 
tient tongue. 

The  boys  now  took  a  look  at  the  piggery,  where 
they  found  several  fat,  dignified  grunters,  together  with 
a  family  of  little  squealers,  who  seemed  quite  too  clean 
and  delicate  to  occupy  such  an  enclosure.  They  then 
went  all  over  the  great  barn,  which  happened  to  be 
tenantless,  the  cows  being  at  pasture  and  the  oxen  an 
horse  off  at  work.  Oscar's  attention  was  attracted  to  a 
scrap  cut  from  a  newspaper,  which  was  pasted  upon 
one  of  the  posts  of  the  horse's  stall.     It  read  as  follows  : 


little    annie.  251 

"the  horse's  prayer. 

"  Up  hill,  spare  thou  me  ; 
Down  hill,  take  care  of  thee ; 
On  level  ground,  spare  me  not, 
Nor  give  me  water  when  I  'm  hot." 

Clinton  said  he  found  these  lines  in  a  newspaper 
about  the  time  lie  began  to  drive  alone,  and  he  stuck 
them  up  upon  the  stall  that  he  might  not  forget  them. 

"  Hallo,  who  is  this  ?"  inquired  Oscar,  as  a  little 
curly-haired  girl  of  six  years  came  tripping  into  the 
barn. 

The  little  girl  to  whom  the  inquiry  was  addressed 
turned  a  shy  and  roguish  look  towards  the  strange  boy, 
and  then  edged  along  to  Clinton,  and  nestled  her  little 
hand  in  his. 

"Can't  you  tell  him  who  you  are?"  inquired  Clinton. 
"  He  came  all  the  way  from  Boston,  where  cousin  Ettie 
and  cousin  Willie  live.  He  's  Jerry's  cousin,  and  little 
Mary  Preston's  cousin.  Now  you  '11  tell  him  what  your 
name  is,  won't  you  ?" 

"Annie  Davenport — that's  my  name,"  she  replied, 
in  her  artless,  winning  way. 

"  Then  you  're  Clinton's  sister,  are  you  ?"  inquired 
Oscar. 


252  WHISTLER. 

"  Yes,  and  he  's  my  brother,"  she  quickly  added, 
with  a  proud  look  that  greatly  amused  the  boys. 

"  Did  you  say  you  have  a  cousin  Willie  in  Boston, 
Clinton  ?"  continued  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  Willie  Davenport,"  replied  Clinton. 

"  I  know  him — he  's  about  your  size,  is  n't  he  ?  and 
his  father  is  a  lawyer  ?" 

"  Yes,  that 's  him — why,  I  want  to  know  if  you  know 
him  ?" 

"0  yes;  he  goes  to  our  school.  The  boys  have 
nicknamed  him  Whistler,  because  he  whistles  so  much  ; 
but  he  's  a  real  clever  fellow,  for  all  that.  My  brother 
Ralph  is  quite  intimate  with  him.  It 's  strange  that  I 
never  knew  before  that  he  had  relations  down  here," 
added  Oscar. 

"  Do  you  know  his  sister,  Ettie  ?"  inquired  Clinton. 

"No,  I  never  saw^  her,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Come  into  the  house  with  me, — I  must  tell  mother 
we  Ve  heard  from  Boston,"  said  Clinton. 

They  all  entered  the  house,  and  Mrs.  Davenport  w^as 
soon  informed  of  the  pleasant  discovery  they  had  made, 
and  had  manyt^iuestions  to  ask  concerning  her  Boston 
friends.     Oscar  seemed  to  become  at  once  an  old  ac- 


THE      SHOP. 


253 


quaintance.  The  fiict  that  he  was  a  sclioolmate  of 
Willie  gave  him  a  direct  passport  to  the  good  graces 
of  all  the  family.  When  Oscar  called  to  mind  his  pe- 
culiar relations  towards  Willie,  this  imloolredifor  friend- 
ship was  not  particularly  agreeable  to  him  ;  for  he  was 
not,  and  never  had  been,  on  very  friendly  terms  with 
Clinton's  cousin.  This,  however,  was  more  than  he 
dared  say  to  Clinton,  and  so  he  concealed  his  dislike  of 
Willie  as  well  as  he  could. 

After  sitting  in  the  house  a  little  while,  Clinton  in- 
vited Oscar  and  Jerry  into  the  "  shop,"  which  was  a 
room  back  of  the  kitchen,  where  Mr.  Davenport  kept  a 
variety  of  carpenter's  tools.  Here,  in  cold  and  stormy 
weather,  Clinton's  father  mended  his  broken  tools  and 
implements,  and  performed  such  other  jobs  as  were  re- 
quired. Clinton,  too,  spent  many  odd  moments  at  the 
work-bench,  and  patient  practice  had  made  him  quite  a 
neat  and  skilful  workman.  He  showed  the  boys  sev- 
eral boxes,  a  pine  table,  and  a  cricket,  made  entirely  by 
his  own  hands,  which  would  have  done  no  discredit  to 
a  regular  carpenter. 

After  remaining  an  hour  or  two  \*hh  Clinton,  Oscar 

.* 

And  Jerry  started  for  home,  well  pleased,  with  tbeii*  visit. 

22 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


THE     LETTER. 


" /^SCAR,  you  haven't  written  liome  since  you  came 
clown  here,  have  you?"  inquired  Mr.  Preston 
^one  morning  at  the  breakfast  table. 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Well,  you  ought  to  write,"  added  Mr.  Preston; 
"  your  mother  told  you  to,  and  I  suppose  she  has  been 
/ooking  for  a  letter  every  day  for  a  week  or  more.  It 's 
over  a  fortnight  since  you  left  home,  and  your  folks 
will  feel  anxious  about  you,  if  they  don't  hear  from  you 
soon.  You  'd  better  write  a  letter  to  them  this  morn- 
inof,  before  you  do  anvthins:  else,  and  then  it  will  be 
out  of  the  way.  I  shall  either  go  or  send  over  to  the 
post-oflSce  to-day,  and  the  letter  will  start  for  Boston  to- 
morrow morning,  and  get  there  the  next  day.'^ 

"  0  dear,  T  hate  to  write,"  said  Oscar.  "  Why  can't 
you  write  to  mother,  aunt,  and  tell  her  how  I  am  ?" 


LETTER-WRITING.  255 

"No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  "that  won't  do.  You 
promised  your  mother  that  you  would  write  yourself, 
and  she  '11  expect  to  hear  from  you,  and  not  f]-om  some- 
body else.  Your  aunt  can  write,  if  she  chooses,  but 
you  must  write  too.  I  '11  give  you  a  pen  and  some  pa 
per  and  ink  after  breakfast,  and  you  can  write  just  a 
much  as  you  please." 

"  I  guess  it  won't  be  much — I  don't  know  how  to 
write  a  letter,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  A  boy  of  your  age  not  know  how  to  write  a  letter 
— and  been  all  your  lifetime  to  such  grand  schools  as 
they  have  in  Boston,  too  I  I  don't  believe  that,"  said 
Mr.  Preston,  shaking  his  head. 

"  I  shall  have  to  go  and  see  the  Shanghae  Rooster," 
said  Oscar,  looking  at  Jerry  very  knowingly. 

Jerry  laughed  at  this  allusion,  but  the  others  did  not 
appear  to  understand  its  meaning.  It  was  evident  that 
they  were  innocent  of  all  knowledge  of  the  mysterious 
letter  ;  and  as  Jerry  wished  them  to  remain  so,  he 
adroitly  turned  the  remark  by  replying  : 

"  N'o  you  won't  —  father  has  got  plenty  of  steel 
pens." 

After  breakfast,   Mr.  Preston  told  Oscar  to    follow 


256  THE      LITTLE      ROOM. 

liim.  They  went  up  stairs,  and  Mr.  P.  took  a  key  from 
his  pocket,  and  unlocked  the  door  of  what  was  known 
by  the  name  of  "  the  private  room."  It  was  a  very 
small  apartment,  and  was  originally  designed  for  a 
closet  or  store-room  ;  but  Mr.  Preston  now  used  it  as  a 
sort  of  office.  Here  he  kept  his  business  papers,  and 
here  he  did  what  little  writing  he  had  to  do.  There 
was  one  window  in  the  room,'  which  looked  out  upon 
the  garden  in  the  rear  of  the  house.  Tiie  furniture 
consisted  of  a  chair,  a  small  portable  desk,  placed  upon 
a  table,  an  old  map  of  the  State  of  Maine,  a  diction- 
ary, almanac,  and  several  other  odd  volumes  and 
pamphlets. 

"  There,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  "  you  may  sit  right  dov/n 
to  my  desk,  and  write  as  long  as  you  please,  if  you 
won't  disturb  my  papers.  There  are  paper,  ink,  pens, 
and  wafers — you  can  use  what  you  want.  When  you 
2^et  done,  lock  the  door,  and  give  the  key  to  your  aunt." 

Oscar  found  there  was  no  backing  out  fiom  ^  letter 
this  time  ;  so  he  sat  down,  and  tried  to  make  up  his 
mind  to  face  the  dreaded  duty.  He  heard  his  uncle 
tell  the  children  not  to  interrupt  him,  till  he  had  fin- 
ished his  letter  ;  and  when  Mr.  Preston    and  his  man 


MAKING     A     BEGINNING.  257 

James  went  off  to  work,  Jerry  accompanied  them.  Os- 
car was  thus  left  to  himself.  After  thinking  about  the 
matter  a  few  moments,  he  dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink- 
stand, and,  having  consulted  the  almanac,  wrote  the 
proper  date  for  the  letter,  together  with  the  address, 
"  Dear  Mother."  Here  he  came  suddenly  to  a  stand. 
He  was  at  a  loss  how  to  commence.  He  sat  uneasily 
in  his  chair,  now  nibbling  the  end  of  the  pen-holder, 
and  now  running  his  fingers  slowly  through  his  hair, 
as  if  to  coax  out  the  thoughts  he  wished  to  express. 

At  length  he  got  started,  and  wrote  several  lines 
without  stopping.  Now  he  thought  he  should  go 
ahead  without  further  trouble;  but  he  soon  found  him- 
self again  brought  to  a  dead  halt.  He  began  to 
scribble  and  draw  rude  figures  upon  a  piece  of  waste 
paper,  hoping  the  next  sentence,  in  continuance  of  his 
letter,  would  soon  pop  into  his  head ;  but  instead  of 
anything  popping  in,  his  ideas  began  to  pop  out,  so 
that  he  almost  forgot  the  letter,  amid  the  unmeaning 
flourishes  his  pen  was  making.  Then,  suddenly  think- 
ing of  the  scarcely-commenced  task  before  him,  he  read 
and  re-read  the  few  lines  he  had  written,  but  could  not 

determine  what  to  say  next.     Lifting  up  the  lid  of  the 
22* 


258 


THE      SWALLOW 


desk,  lie  found  a  variety  of  bills,  receipts,  accounts  and 
letters  scattered  about.  Disregarding  the  injunction  of 
his  uncle,  and  in  violation  of  one  of  the  plainest  rules 
of  good  breeding,  he  concluded  to  open  one  of  the  let- 
ters, and  see  if  he  could  not  gain  some  hint  from  it,  to 
aid  him  in  completing  his  own.  The  letter  he  opened 
proved  to  be  a  short  business  message,  and  it  was  wi-it- 
ten  in  such  a  diiScult  hand,  that  he  could  not  read  half 
the  words.  He  then  looked  into  several  other  letters, 
but  none  of  them  afforded  him  any  aid. 

After  idling  away  half  an  hour  in  this  manner,  he 
resumed  his  letter,  and  began  to  make  some  progress 
upon  it,  when  the  lively  chirping  and  twittering  of 
a  party  of  birds  in  an  apple-tree  near  the  window, 
attracted  his  attention.  He  laid  down  his  pen,  and 
watched  their  movements  awhile.  They  were  swal- 
lows ;  and  from  their  actions,  Oscar  soon  discovered 
^nat  the  old  birds  were  teaching  their  little  ones  how 
to  fly.  There  were  several  nests  of  these  swallows, 
under  the  rafters  of  Mr.  Preston's  barn  ;  and  as 
they  had  recently  had  accessions  to  their  families, 
Oscar  concluded  this  must  be  the  first  appearance 
of  the  new-comers  in  public.     The  old  birds  fluttered 


A      LESSON      UNHEEDED.  259 

back  and  forth,  twittering  and  talking  to  the  young 
ones  all  the  while,  and  trying  to  entice  them  to  commit 
themselves  again  to  their  wings.  The  little  feai-ful 
things  looked  doubtingly,  first  one  way  and  then  an- 
other, as  though  they  would  gladly  launch  away  upon 
their  destined  element,  if  they  were  only  sure  they 
should  not  tumble  ingloriously  to  the  ground.  The 
clamor  of  the  old  ones  increased  every  moment.  They 
called  and  coaxed  more  earnestly,  and  fluttered  more 
impatiently,  until  at  length  the  young  birds  worked  up 
their  courage  to  the  requisite  point,  and  away  the  whole 
flock  darted,  towards  the  barn. 

Now  that  the  swallows  were  out  of  his  way,  Oscar 
returned  to  his  letter  once  more.  Had  he  learned  a 
lesson  of  self-confidence  from  the  example  of  the  little 
swallows,  the  few  minutes  he  spent  in  watching  their 
movements  would  have  been  well  employed.  But  in- 
stead of  his  confidence  increasing,  he  was  now  almost 
sick  of  the  sight  of  the  letter,  and  began  to  doubt 
whether  he  should  ever  finish  it.  While  he  was  hesita- 
ting whether  he  had  better  tear  it  up,  or  try  once  more 
to  go  on  with  it,  a  sweet  childish  voice  from  the  garden 
engaged  his  attention.     He  looked  from  the  window, 


260  mary's    picture    book. 

and  saw  little  Maiy  sitting  down  upon  the  grass,  in  a 
shady  spot,  with  a  large  book  open  before  her.  She 
was  looking  at  the  engravings  in  the  volume,  and  was 
talking  very  earnestly  to  herself,  and  to  the  figures  in 
the  pictures. 

"  There  is  Emily,"  she  was  saying,  "  and  there  is 
father  with  a  shovel ;  and  this  one  is  me,  and  that  is 
Jerry,  and  that 's  Oscar,  carrying  a  basket.  I  guess 
they  're  going  to  dig  potatoes.  0,  what  lots  of  houses 
over  the  other  side  of  the  pond  ;  and  there  's  one,  two, 
three,  five,  ten,  eight  meeting-houses,  too.  It  must  be 
Boston,  I  guess,  there  are  so  many  houses  there.  And 
there's  a  great  boat  coming — O  what  a  smoke  it 
makes! — and  it's  got  wheels,  too.  jSTow  we'll  get 
right  into  it,  and  go  and  see  Uncle  Henry  and  all  the 
folks.  Stop,  stop,  you  boat !  jSTow  that 's  too  bad — it 
goes  by,  and  we  can't  go  to  Boston." 

Thus  little  Mary  continued  to  talk  to  the  pictures  and 
to  herself,  unconscious  that  any  one  was  listening  to 
her.  She  was  a  pretty  child,  and,  all  unknown  to  her- 
self, she  made  almost  as  attractive  a  picture  as  any 
in  her  book,  with  her  fair  face,  her  flowing  hair, 
and   her    clean   dress,  set  off   by  the  green  grass  and 


TRYING      IN      EARNEST 


261 


clinibino'  vines  around   her.     Oscar  sat  listening  lo  her 
childish  prattle  for  some  time,        -5^;i> 


when    the    striking    of    the 
kitchen  clock  reminded  him 


that  he  had   been  seated  at    ^■ 


the   desk   an  hour,  and   had      '^S^^'^^^^ 
not  yet  written  a  dozen  lines.    ^^mM^%JA^^ 
He  was  about  to  tear  up  the 

sheet   of   paper    over    which        i  -     -  .^  ^^^^^ 

he  had  sat  (but  not  labored)  so  long-,  and  give  up  the 
attempt.  Then  he  thought  of  his  promise  to  write,  and 
how  ashamed  he  should  feel  to  have  his  uncle's  folks 
know  that  he  had  tried  a  whole  hour,  and  could  not 
write  a  letter  to  his  own  mother.  He  finally  deter- 
mined to  make  one  more  attempt. 

Finding  that  the  sound  of  Mary's  voice  disturbed 
him,  Oscar  now  shut  down  the  window,  and  thus  cut 
off  all  communication  with  the  outer  world,  except  by 
the  eye.  He  soon  got  under  way  again  with  his  letter, 
and,  to  his  own  surprise,- he  went  along  quite  easily 
and  with  considerable  rapidity.  The  reason  of  this 
was,  he  was  now  really  in  earnest,  and  had  given  his 
mind  wholly  to  the  letter.     Before,  his  thoughts  were 


262  THE     LETTER. 

flitting  from  one  trifle  to  another ;  now  they  were  di- 
rected to  the  object  he  wished  to  accomplish.  Before 
the  clock  struck  the  next  hour,  the  letter  was  finished, 
sealed,  and  directed.  It  was  quite  a  respectable  sort  of  a 
letter,  too.  When  he  had  got  through,  Oscar  was  him- 
self surprised  to  find  that  he  could  write  so  good  an 
epistle.  The  spelling,  punctuation,  and  penmanship 
might  have  been  improved,  but  in  other  respects  the 
letter  was  creditable  J,o  him.  I  will  print  it  as  he  in- 
tended it  should  read,  and  not  precisely  as  he  wrote  it: 

"Beookdale,  June  15,  185-. 
"  Dear  Mother  : 

"  I  suppose  you  are  looking  for  a  letter  from 
me,  and  I  meant  to  have  written  before  this,  but  some- 
how I  have  neglected  it.  I  got  here  safe  the  next  day 
after  I  left  home.     We  stopped  one  night  in  Portland, 

and  put  up  at  the Hotel.     The  next  day  we  rode 

in  the  cars  all  the  forenoon,  and  in  the  stage  all  the  af- 
ternoon. The  stage  does  not  go  within  five  miles  of 
uncle's,  but  Jerry  went  over  with  a  horse  and  wagon  to 
get  us.  I  like  Brookdale  fii-st-rate.  It  is  a  real  coun- 
tryfied  place,  but  I  like  it  all  the  better  for  that.  The 
nearest  house  to  uncle's  is  half  a  mile  oft';  and,  by  the 
way,  tell  Ralph  that  a  cousin  of  Whistler's  lives  there. 
His  name  is  Clinton  Davenport.  I  have  got  acquaint- 
ed with  him,  and  hke  him  very  much.     I  like  Jerry, 


THE      LETTER.  263 

too.  "We  have  capital  times  together.  All  the  boys 
here  are  rather  '  green,'  as  we  say  in  Boston  ;  and  you 
would  langh  at  the  ideas  they  have  of  city  things ;  but 
I  suppose  they  think  I  am  green  about  country  things, 
and  so  we  are  square.  I  have  lots  of  rides,  and  good 
long  Avalksf  too.  A  few  days  ago,  Jerry  and  I  walk- 
ed four  or  five  itiiles  through  the  woods  and  pastures, 
to  an  old  hut  where  a  hermit  used  to  live.  They  say 
he  was  a  miser,  and  buried  his  money  there,  and  people 
have  dug  for  it,  but  nobody  has  found  it.  We  carried 
our  provisions,  and  made  a  fire,  and  ate  dinner  there. 
There  is  a  fine  pond  close  by,  where  we  got  our  water 
to  drink. 

"  There  are  lots  of  birds  here.  We  are  going  to  set 
some  snares  in  the  woods,  and  catch  some.  There  are 
some  swallows'  nests  in  uncle's  barn,  just  over  the  door. 
You  can  look  right  up  into  them,  and  see  the  birds. 
They  are  quite  tame.  They  are  just  making  their 
young  ones  learn  how  to  fly.  It  is  real  amusing  to  see 
them. 

"  Uncle  has  quite  a  large  farm.  I  forget  how  many 
acres  he  told  me  there  was,  but  it  is  a  good  many. 
They  have  cows,  and  pigs,  and  hens,  and  live  in  real 
country  style.  I  have  learned  how  to  make  butter,  but 
I  have  not  learned  to  like  buttermilk  yet.  I  can't  bear 
it,  but  all  the  other  folks  think  it  is  a  great  treat.  The 
schools  don't  keep  here  but  three  months  in  the  winter, 
so  Jerry  and  I  are  together  about  all  the  time.  We 
sleep  together,  too.     I  almost  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I 


2G4 


INQUISITIVENESS. 


have  got  quite  strong  and  hearty  again.  My  cough  ia 
gone,  and  aunt  says  I  look  a  good  deal  better  than 
I  did  when  I  came  here.  I  want  to  hear  from  home, 
but  I  hope  you  won't  send  for  me  to  go  back  just  yet. 
But  I  am  tii'ed  of  writing,  and  must  close  up  my  letter. 
Excuse  eri'ors  and  bad  writing.  Give  my  love  to  all  the 
family,  including  Tiger. 

"  Your  affectionate  son, 

"  Oscar." 


Oscar  felt  quite  relieved  when  his  letter  was  ready 
for  the  post-office.  Having  locked  up  the  little  room, 
he  carried  the  key  to  his  aunt. 

"Have  you  written  your  letter?"  inquired  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Where  is  it  ?  You  're  going  to  let  me  read  it, 
aint  you  ?"  inquired  Emily. 

"There  it  is,"  said  Oscar,  taking  the  letter  from  his 
jacket  pocket ;  "  but  I  guess  you  won't  read  it,  miss." 

"  Yes,  do  let  me  read  it,"  persisted  Emily,  who  really 
had  an  undue  proportion  of  inquisitiveness  in  her  nature. 

"  No,  I  can't ;  it 's  sealed  up,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Then  tell  me  what  you  wrote,  won't  you  ?"  con- 
tinued Emily. 


BANTERING.  265 

"  Why,  you  silly  child,  what  business  is   it  to  you 

what  he  wrote  ?"  said  her  mother.     "  Don't  ask  any 

more   such   foolish    questions ;    Oscar  will   think  you 

have  n't  got  common  sense  if  you  do." 

"  Did   you   write   anything   about   me  ?"  continued 

Emily,  in  a  lower  tone. 

"  Did  you  hear  me,  Emily  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Preston, 

in  a  sharper  tone. 

"  O  no,  I  did  n't  write  much,"  said  Oscar,  in  reply  to 

Emily ;  "  there  's  nothing  in  the  letter  that  you  would 

care  about  seeing." 

*'  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  seal  up  the  letter 

so  soon.     I  wanted  to  send  a  message  to  Alice  and 

Ella,"  continued  Emily. 

"You  are  too  late  now,"   replied  Oscar;  "but  I'll 

give  you  a  chance  next  time.     What  message  do  you 

want  to  send  ?" 

"  You  must  n't  be  so  inquisitive,"  said  Emily,  with  a 

laugh  ;  "just  as  though  I  were  going  to  tell  you,  when 

you  would  n't  let  me  read  the  letter !" 

"  AVell,  I  can  tell  you  one  thing, — I  don't  want  to 

know,"  replied  Oscar.      "Aunt  Eliza,  do  you   know 

where  Jerry  is?" 

23 


266  MULCHING. 

"  He  has  gone  ^YitIl  liis  father  down  to  the  meadow 
lot,"  replied  Mrs.  Preston.  "  I  guess  they  will  be  back 
before  a  great  while." 

'Oscar  set  out  for  the  "  meadow  lot,"  which  was  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  house,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river.  He  had  not  gone  far,  however,  when  he 
met  Mr.  Preston  and  Jerry  returning. 

"I've  written  my  letter,  uncle,  and  it's  all  ready  to 
go  to  the  post-oiSce,"  said  Oscar ;  "  can't  Jerry  and  I 
carry  it  over  V 

"  I  '11  see  about  that  this  afternoon,"  said  Mr.  Pres- 
ton ;  "  I've  got  something  else  for  Jerry  to  do  now." 

"  I  Vn  going  over  to  the  old  wood-lot  to  get  a  load 
of  mulching,"  said  Jerry  to  Oscar ;  "  and  you  can  go 
too,  if  you  want  to.^' 

"  Mulching — what  is  that?"  inc^uired  Oscar. 

"  It 's  stuff  that  they  put  around  young  trees,  to  keep 
the  roots  from  drying  up  in  summer,"  replied  Jerry. 
"  You  know  all  those  small  apple  and  pear  trees  back 
of  the  barn  ?  well,  it's  to  put  around  them." 

Having  reached  the  house,  the  boys  ate  some  lunch- 
eon, and  then  proceeded  to  tackle  Billy  into  the  hay- 
cart.     After  Mr.  Preston  had  given  Sevrj  sundry  cau- 


CUTTING     BIRCH     TWIGS. 


267 


tions  and  directions,  wliicli  the  latter  seemed  to  think 
quite  unnecessary,  the  boys  hopped  into  the  cart, 
and  drove  off  towards  the  woods.  Mr.  Preston  owned 
several  tracts  of  woodland  in  Brookdale.  The  lot  to 
which  the  boys  were  going,  was  called  the  "  old"  one. 
because  the  wood  had  all  been  cut  off  once,  and  it  was 
now  covered  with  a  young  growth,  not  large  enough 
for  fii-ewood.  It  was  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
house,  and  the  boys  soon  reached  the  spot,  and  com- 
menced operations.  They  Avere  each  provided  with 
1-arge  jack-knives,  and  with  these  they  proceeded  to 
lop  oif  the  young  and  tender  ends  of  the  birches, 
which  trees  were  quite  abundant  in  that  spot ;  for 
birches  are  very  apt  to  spring  up  after  a  pine  forest 
has  been  cleared  away.  Many  of  the  trees  were  yet 
so  small,  that  the  boys  did  not  have  to  climb -up  to 
reach  the  branches.  - 

Though  all  this  was  really  work,  it  seemed  so  much 
like  play  to  Jevvy  and  Oscar,  that  they  actually /o?yo!f 
to  be  lazy.  The  consequence  was,  the  job  was  done 
before  they  thought  of  it.  Gathering  up  the  heaps  of 
small  twigs  scattered  around  them,  they  threw  them 
into  the  cart,  and   found  they  had   quite  a  respectable 


268  THE     RIDE. 

load ;  respectable  in  bulk  at  least,  tliougli  not  a  very 
hesi^y  burden  for  Billy.  Taking  their  seats  upon  the 
top  of  the  mulching,  which  was  almost  as  soft  as  a 
load  of  hay,  they  drove  back  to  the  barn,  and  alighted. 
Mr.  Preston  now  appeared,  and  led  the  horse  into  the 
orchard,  where,  with  the  aid  of  the  boys,  he  scattered 
the  birch  twigs  around  the  young  trees,  so  as  to  pro- 
tect their  roots  from  the  fierce  heat  of  the  sun.  There 
was  not  enough  for  all  the  trees,  but  he  told  them  they 
need  not  get  any  more  at  that  time. 

After  dinner,  Mr.  Preston  said  he  should  have  to  go 
over  to  the  Cross-Roads  himself,  as  he  wanted  to  see  a 
man  who  lived  there ;  but  he  told  Oscar  he  might  go 
with  him,  if  he  wished.  Oscar  accepted  the  invitation, 
and  they  were  soon  on  their  way,  leaving  Jerry  not  a 
little  disappointed  that  he  could  not  go  with  them.  Oscar 
handed  his  letter  to  the  postmaster,  who  marked  it  with 
the  stamp  of  the  office,  and  deposited  it  in  the  mail-bag. 

Mr.  Preston  stopped  to  purchase  a  few  articles  in  the 
shop  where  the  post-office  was  kept.  When  he  was 
ready  to  start,  he  inquired  : 

"  Have  you  mailed  your  letter,  and  paid  your  post- 
age, Oscar  2" 


PAYING     POSTAGE.  2G9 

"  I  've  mailed  it,  but  I  did  n't  pay  tlie  postage,"  re- 
plied Oscar. 

"That  wasn't  right,"  said  his  uncle-;  "when  you 
mail  a  letter  to  a  friend,  you  should  always  pay  the 
postage.  If  you  pay  it  now,  in  advance,  it  will  be  only 
three  cents ;  but  if  the  postage  is  not  paid  till  the  letter 
is  delivered,  it  will  be  five  cents." 

"I  did  n't  think  of  that,"  said  Oscar  ;  "I  wonder  if 
it  is  too  late  to  pay  it  now  ?     I  '11  go  and  see." 

On  making  known  his  request,  the  postmaster  drevr 
forth  the  letter  from  the  bag,  and  imprinted  another 
stamp  upon  it.  Oscar  paid  the  three  cents,  and  de- 
parted, with  his  uncle. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


THE     RECALL. 


/^SCAR  M'as  bent  upon  going  a-gimning.  He  had 
allowed  Lis  mind  to  dwell  upon  the  idea,  until  it 
seemed  to  him  as  though  he  could  no  longer  resist 
the  impulse  to  play  the  sportsman,  without  a  sacrifice 
of  his  happiness.  His  uncle,  it  is  true,  had  tried  to 
dissuade  him  from  it,  and  had  positively  refused  to  lend 
him  his  gun.  But  there  were  other  guns  in  Brookdale, 
and  everybody  was  not  so  particular  as  Mr.  Preston 
about  trusting  boys  with  fire-arms.  Why  could  n't  he 
borrow  a  gun  of  somebody  else  ?  So  he  asked  him- 
self; and  by-and-bye  he  put  the  same  question  to 
Terry.  Jerry  heartily  entered  into  the  proposal.  He 
i,hought  Jim  Oakley  would  lend  him  a  gun.  At  any 
rate,  he  was  not  afraid  to  ask  him.  Jim  was  a  famous 
gunner,  in  that  region.     He  had  several  fowling-pieces  ; 


A     DISPUTE.  271 

and  if  he  would  not  lend  them  his  best  rifle,  it  was  not 
likely  that  he  would  refuse  them  one  of  his  old  guns. 
So  Jerry  reasoned,  and  Oscar  fully  agreed  with  him. 
They  went  to  see  Jim,  that  very  afternoon,  and  by  dint 
of  teasing,  they  got  the  gun,  together  with  a  small 
quantity  of  powder  and  shot.  Thus  armed,  they  set 
out  for  the  woods,  in  quest  of  game. 

They  had  been  in  the  woods  but  a  short  time,  and 
had  not  yet  shot  anything,  though  they  had  fired  sev- 
eral charges,  when  a  dispute  arose  between  them  about 
the  gun.  Jerry  claimed  a  right  to  it  half  the  time,  on 
the  ground  that  he  had  borrowed  it.  Oscar  was  will- 
ing that  he  should  use  the  gun  occasionally,  but  he  re- 
sisted his  claim  to  it  half  the  time.  He  contended  that 
the  gun  was  loaned  to  him,  and  besides,  he  had  agreed 
to  pay  the  owner  for  all  the  ammunition  they  used. 
The  dispute  waxed  warmer  and  warmer.  Oscar  was  ob- 
stinate, and  Jerry  grew  sulky.  It  was  the  first  serious  dif- 
ficulty that  had  arisen  between  them.  Neither  of  them, 
as  yet,  knew  the  other's  temper,  bat'  now  they  were  in 
a  fair  way  of  finding  each  other  out.  It  was  the  clash- 
ing of  two  strong  wills.  Oscar  soon  saw  that  their 
sport  was  at  an  end  for  that  day,  and  throwing  down 


272  HARD     WORDS. 

the  gun  and  powder  flask  upon  tlie  grass,  he  said,  in  an 
angry  tone  : 

"  There,  take  the  old  thing,  and  do  what  you  please 
with  it ;  and  when  you  carry  it  back,  see  that  you  pay 
for  the  powder,  for  I  won't." 

So  saying,  he  turned  uppn  his  heel  and  walked  off. 
He  had  not  gone  far  when  Jerry,  who  had  picked  up 
the  gun,  called  out : 

"  Here  !  you  've  broken  the  trigger,  throwing  it  down 
so.     You  may  carry  it  back  yourself  now,  I  won't." 

"  I  shan't  carry  it  back,"  replied  Oscar  ;  "you  say  he 
lent  it  to  you,  and  you  may  take  care  of  it  now." 

Oscar  went  back  to  his  uncle's,  leaving  Jerry  and  the 
gun  to  keep  each  other  company.  ISTot  feeling  in  a 
very  pleasant  mood,  Oscar  did  not  go  into  the  house, 
but  loitered  around  the  barn,  avoiding  the  family  as 
much  as  he  could.  Pretty  soon  he  saw  Clinton  driving 
up,  and  he  stepped  inside  of  the  barn,  as  he  did  not 
care  about  speaking  with  him.  Clinton  stopped 
however,  when  opposite  to  the  barn,  and  called  to 
him. 

"What  would  you  give  for  a  letter  from  home  ?"  said 
Clinton,  when  Oscar  made  his  appearance. 


A     LETTER      FROM      HOME.  273 

"  I  don't  know — why,  have  you  got  one  for  me  ?" 
inquired  Oscar,  with  remarkable  coolness. 

"  That 's  for  you,  I  guess,"  said  Clinton,  handing  him 
a  letter.  "  I  've  been  over  to  the  post-office,  and  as  I 
happened  to  see  a  letter  directed  to  you,  I  thought  I 
wouhi  take  it  along  with  me." 

"That's  right,  I'm  glad  you  did,"  said  Oscar,  taking 
the  letter.  "  Much  obliged  to  you  for  your  trouble,"  he 
added,  as  Clinton  drove  off. 

Oscar  now  went  into  the  barn,  and,  seating  himself 
upon  a  stool,  opened  and  read  his  letter.  It  was  fi-om 
his  mother.  She  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  his  letter, 
and  expressed  much  gratification  at  hearing  that  he 
was  well  and  enjoying  himself.  His  father,  she  wi'ote, 
thought  he  had  better  return  home,  and  resume  his 
place  at  school,  from  which  he  had  been  absent  nearly 
three  months.  The  term  would  close  in  about  a  month, 
and  he  wanted  Oscar  to  be  prepared  to  enter  the  High 
School  at  that  time.  Then  followed  various  little  mes- 
sages from  the  children,  directions  about  his  journey 
home,  &c.  In  closing,  she  requested  him  to  return 
that  week,  that  he  might  be  ready  to  go  to  school  the 
following  Monday. 


274  THE      QUARREL. 

Oscar  was  not  very  much  pleased  with  the  contents 
of  the  letter.  He  did  not  expect  to  be  recalled  so  sud- 
denly. He  had  hoped  that,  at  any  rate,  he  should  not 
be  sent  to  school  again  that  term.  But  his  plans  and 
hopes  were  all  ovei'turned  by  this  letter.  He  went  into 
the  house,  and  told  the  news  to  his  aunt,  who  expressed 
regret  that  he  was  to  leave  so  soon. 

By-and-bye  Jerry  came  home,  but  he  brought  the 
same  scowl  upon  his  face  that  Oscar  left  with  him  up 
in  the  woods.  Oscar,  too,  was  as  "stufiy"  as  ever.  No 
words  passed  between  the  two,  and  each  seemed  bent 
upon  gi\'ing  the  other  a  wide  berth.  At  the  supper 
table,  somethino;  was  said  about  Oscar's  letter,  and  his 
going  home  ;  but  Jerry  was  too  obstinate  to  ask  any 
questions,  and  so  he  remained  in  tormenting  uncertainty 
in  regard  to  the  matter.  Oscar,  too,  had  some  curiosity 
about  the  gun,  but  he  did  not  intend  to  "  speak  first," 
if  he  never  spoke  again  to  his  cousin. 

During  the  whole  evening,  Oscar  and  Jerry  were  at 
the  opposite  poles  of  the  little  family  circle.  When 
Oscar  retired  for  the  night,  he  found  Jerry  not  only 
abed,  but  asleep,  or  pretending  to  be.  It  was  a  wonder 
that  both  did  not  tumble  out  of  bed  that  night ;  for 


SOBER      FACES.  275 

each  slept  upon  tlio  extreme  edge  of  the  mattress,  as 
far  as  possible  from  the  other. 

"When  Oscar  awoke  in  the  morning,  he  found  him- 
self alone,  Jerry  having  quietly  arisen  and  slipped  out 
of  the  room,  without  disturbing  him.  They  did  not 
see  each  other  until  they  met  at  the  breakfast  table. 
Here,  their  sober  and  quiet  demeanor,  so  unusual  with 
ihem,  soon  attracted  notice. 

"  See  how  down  in  the  mouth  Jerry  is  !"  said  Emily. 
"  He  looks  as  though  he  had  lost  all  his  friends.  And 
Oscar  does  n't  look  much  better  either,  poor  fellow  I" 

Both  boys  changed,  color,  and  looked  queerly,  but 
they  said  nothing. 

"  Never  mind,  boys,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  "  you  've  got 
one  day  more  to  enjoy  yourselves  together.  You  'd 
better  make  the  most  of  that,  while  it  lasts,  and  not 
worry  about  the  separation  till  the  time  comes." 

"  That 's  good  doctrine,"  said  Mr.  Preston  ;  "  never 
borrow  trouble,  for  it  comes  fast  enough  any  way. 
Come,  cheer  up,  Oscar,  you  have  n't  gone  yet." 

"  It  's  too  bad  to  make  me  go  home  so  soon  — I 
thought  I  was  going  to  stay  here  a  month  or  two," 
said    Oscar,  who   was    very  willing   that   his   unusual 


27b  AN     EXPLOSION. 

demeanor  should  be  attributed  entirely  to  his  summons 
home.  - 

"You  must  ask  your  father  to  let  you  comedown 
and  spend  your  vacation,"  said  Mr.  Preston.  "  I  ex- 
pect to  go  up  to  Boston  about  that  time,  and  I  guess 
he  will  let  me  bi'ing  you  home  with  me." 

"  I  should  like  to  come,"  said  Oscar,  "  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve father  will  let  me,  it 's  so  far." 

"  0  yes,  he  will,  when  he  knows  what  good  friends 
you  and  Jerry  are,"  replied  Mr.  Preston. 

"Jerry's  crying,  as  true  as  I'm  alive!"  exclaimed 
Emily,  who  had  been  watching  the  workings  of  her 
brother's  face  for  several  moments,  and  thought  she 
saw  moisture  gathering  in  his  eye. 

"No  I  aint,  either  !"  replied  Jerry,  in  such  a  prompt 
and  spiteful  tone,  and  with  such  a  scowl  upon  his  face, 
that  all  the  others,  including  even  Oscar,  joined  in  a 
hearty  laugh. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  good-natured,"  said  his  mother  ; 
"Oscar's  going  off  seems  to  have  had  a  queer  effect 
upon  you." 

"  I  don't  care,  you  're  all  picking  upon  me — it  's 
enough  to  make  anybody  cross,"  said  Jeriy,  in  a  surly  tone. 


<^ 


ITS      EFFECTS.  277 

"You're  mistaken — nobody  has  picked  upon  you," 
replied  his  mother. 

"  Yes,  you  have,  too,"  responded  Jerry 

"Jerry!  don't  let  me  hear  any  more  of  that — not 
another  word,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  sternly. 

"  Then  you  'd  better  make  Emily  hold  her  tongue," 
said  Jerry. 

"  Hush  !  do  you  hear  me  ?"  said  Mr.  Preston,  with 
considerable  excitement. 

Jerry  undertook  to  mutter  something  more,  when  his 
father  jumped  up,  and,  taking  him  by  the  collar,  led 
him  to  the  cellar-door,  and  told  him  to  go  down  and 
stay  until  he  was  sent  for.  Then,  shutting  the  door, 
and  turning  the  button,  he  resumed  his  seat  at  the 
table,  and  the  family  finished  their  meal  in  silence. 

Jerry  was  released  from  his  confinement  soon  after 
breakfast ;  but  the  unfortunate  affair  at  the  table  con- 
tinued to  weigh  heavily  upon  his  mind.  Throughout 
the  rest  of  the  day,  he  kept  out  of  everybody's  way, 
and  said  nothing,  but  looked  sour,  cross,  and  wretched. 
Oscar,  too,  felt  very  unpleasantly.  He  found  it  hard 
work  to  amuse  himself  alone.     He  was  a  boy  of  strong 

social  feelings,  and  abhorred  solitary  rambles  and  sports. 
24 


278  MAKING      UP. 

It  was  a  long  and  dull  day,  and  when  he  retiied  to  bed 
at  night,  he  almost  felt  glad  that  it  was  his  hist  day  in 
Brookdale. 

Soon  after  he  had  got  into  bed,  Jerry,  who  had  re- 
tired before  him,  called  out : 

"  Oscar  !" 

"  What  ?"  inquired  the  other. 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  Jerry  hitched 
and  twisted  about,  as  if  hesitating  how  to  proceed.  He 
at  length  inquired  : 

"Are  you  mad  with  me  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Oscar,  somewhat  reluctantl}^,  and  in  a 
tone  that  was  almost  equivalent  to  "  yes." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  go  off  without  making  up  with 
me,"  added  Jerry ;  and  as  he  spoke,  his  voice  trembled, 
and  had  it  been  light  enough,  Oscar  might  have  de- 
tected something  like  moistare  in  those  very  eyes  that 
had  flashed  in  anger  at  Emily  in  the  morning,  for  re- 
porting the  same  thing  of  them. 

"  I  'm  ready  to  make  up  with  you,"  replied  Oscar, 
turning  over  toward  Jerry. 

Having  thus,  broken  the  ice,  the  constraint  and  re- 
serve that  had  existed  between  them  since  the  previous 


STARTING      FOR      HOME.  279 

day,  giadually  melted  away,  and  they  were  once  more 
on  sociable  terms,  although  their  intercourse  was  not 
quite  so  free  and  unembarrassed  as  it  was  before  their 
quarrel.  In  fact,  they  did  not  properly  heal  up  the 
difficulty  between  them,  inasmuch  as  neither  made  an}r 
confession  or  apology — a  duty  that  both  should  hav 
performed,  as  they  were  about  equally  guilty.  Oscar's 
fiist  inquiries  were  concerning  the  gun.  Jerry  told  hira 
that  he  carried  it  home,  and  that  the  owner  was  quite 
angry,  when  he  saw  the  damage  it  had  sustained,  but 
said  nothing  about  making  the  boys  pay  for  it.    . 

The  next  morning  the  family  arose  at  an  earlier  hour 
than  usual,  as  Oscar  had  got  to  be  on  his  way  soon 
after  sunrise.  It  was  decided  that  Jerry  should  drive 
him  over  to  the  Cross-Roads.  Accordingly,  after  a 
hasty  breakfast,  he  bade  them  all  good-bye,  one  by 
one,  and  taking  a  seat  in  the  wagon  with  Jei'ry,  start- 
ed for  home.  It  was  deho-htful,  ridinof  while  the  birds 
were  yet  singing  their  morning  songs,  and  the  grass 
was  spangled  with  dew,  and  the  cool  air  had  not  fel 
the  hot  breath  of  the  sun  ;  but  the  separation  that  was 
about  to  take  place,  and  the  unpleasant  recollection  of 
their  recent   quarrel,  lessened  their  enjoyment  of  the 


280 


THE      COACH. 


ride  very  much.  They  reached  the  Cross-Roads  nearly 
half  an  hour  before  the  staofe-coach  came  alonof.  At 
length  it  drove  up  to  the  post-ofBce,  and  Oscar,  mount- 
ing to  the  top,  took  a  seat  behind  the  driver.  The 
mail-bag  was  handed  to  the  driver,  and  the  coach 
started  again  on  its  way,  Oscar  bowing  his  farewell  to 
Jerry,  as  they  drove  off. 

Nothing  of 
terest    occurr 
the  forenoon's 
coach  reached  its  destin 
tion  about  ele 
and    Oscar   1 
time    enough 
the   dust 
from   his 
clothing, 
and      to 
obtain    a 
drink  of 
cold  wa- 
ter, when   the  signal  was  given    for  the  cars   to  start, 
and  he  took  his  seat  in  the  train.     His  thoughtful  aunt 


A      LONG     RIDE.  281 

had  placed  a  liberal  supply  of  eatables  in  tlie  top  of 
his  valise,  and  to  that  he  now  had  recourse,  for  his  long 
ride  had  given  him  a  sharp  appetite.  There  were  but 
few  passengers  in  the  train  when  it  started,  but  at  al- 
most every  station  it  received  accessions. 

On  reaching  Portland,  Oscar  found  that  he  had 
nearly  half  an  hour  to  spare,  before  taking  the  Boston 
train  ;  for  it  was  his  intention  to  "  go  through"  in  one 
day,  which  his  early  start  enabled  him  to  do.  After 
treating  himself  to  a  few  cakes,  which  he  purchased  at 
a  refreshment  stand  in  the  depot,  he  walked  about  until 
it  was  time  to  take  his  seat  in  the  cars. 

The  clock  stiiick  three,  and  the  train  started.  One 
hundred  and  eleven  miles  seemed  to  Oscar  a  long  dis- 
tance to  travel,  at  one  stretch,  especially  after  riding 
all  the  forenoon  ;  and,  indeed,  he  did  begin  to  feel  quite 
tired,  long  before  he  -reached  the  end  of  the  journey. 
To  add  to  his  uneasiness,  a  particle  of  cinder  from  the 
locomotive  flew' into  his  eye,  and  lodged  there  so  firmly 
that  all  his  efforts  to  remove  it  were  in  vain.  In  a  little 
while,  the  eye  became  quite  painful,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  keep  it  closed.     A  kind-looking  gentleman, 

who  sat  near  him,  noticed  his  trouble,  and  offered  to 
24* 


282  HOME      AGAIN. 

assist  him  in  removing  the  mote;  but  it  was  so  small 
that  he  could  not  find  it.  He  advised  Oscar  not  to  rub 
the  inflamed  organ,  and  told  him  he  thought  the  mois- 
ture of  the  eye  would  soon  wash  out  the  intruder,  if 
left  to  itself.  Oscar  tried  to  follow  this  advice,  but  the 
pain  and  irritation  did  not  subside,  and  he  closed  his 
eyes,  and  resigned  himself  to  darkness. 

The  nine  o'clock  bells  of  Boston  were  ringing,  as  Os- 
car left  the  depot  and  turned  his  steps  homeward. 
He  hurried  along  through  the  fjirailiar  streets,  and  had 
just  turned  the  corner  from  which  his  home  was  in 
sight,  when  somebody  jumped  suddenly  from  a  dark 
passage-way,  and  seized  him  by  the  hand.  Tt  was 
Ralph,  who  had  been  on  the  watch  for  his  brother  half 
an  hour,  and  concealed  himself  just  as  he  saw  him  ap- 
proaching. Each  gave  the  other  a  cordial  greeting, 
and  then  they  hastened  into  the  house,  where  Oscar 
found  the  rest  of  the  family  waiting  to  receive  him. 
The  general  commotion  that  followed  his  arrival,  arous- 
ed Tiger  from  the  comfortable  nap  he  was  taking  on  a 
mat,  and  on  hearing  the  well-remembered  tones  of  his 
master's  voice,  he  sprang  toward  Oscar,  and  neai'ly 
knocked  him  over  with  his  demonstrations  of  welcome. 


THE      ETE-STONE.  283 

So  Oscar  was  at  home  again  ;  and  from  the  welcome 
he  received,  he  learned  that  there  is  pleasure  in  getting 
back  from  a  journey  as  well  as  in  setting  out  upon  one. 
His  inflamed  eye  soon  attracted  the  notice  of  his 
mother,  and  she  examined  it  to  see  if  she  could  detect 
the  cause  of  the  irritation  ;  but  the  troublesome  atom 
was  invisible.  She  then  said  she  would  try  the  eye- 
stone,  and,  going  to  the  drawer,  she  got  a  small, 
smooth,  and  flat  stone,  and  told  Ella  to  go  down  into 
the  kitchen  and  bring  up  a  little  vinegar  in  a  saucer. 
On  putting  the  stone  into  the  vinegar,  it  soon  began  to 
move  about,  as  though  it  were  possessed  of  life.  When 
it  had  become  sufficiently  lively,  Mrs.  Preston  wiped  it 
dry,  and  put  it  between  the  lid  and  ball  of  Oscar's  in- 
flamed eye.  After  it  had  remained  there  a  few  min- 
utes, he  allowed  it  to  drop  into  his  hand,  and  on  a 
close  examination,  he  found  that  it  had  brought  with  it 
the  offending  substance  that  had  caused  him  so  much 
pain.  It  was  a  little  black  speck,  so  small  that  it  was 
barely  perceptible  to  the  unaided  eye.  It  now  being 
quite  late,  Mrs.  Preston  thought  that  further  inquiries  and 
answers  concerning  Oscar's  visit  had  better  be  deferred 
till  morning,  and  the  family  soon  retired  to  their  beds. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

DOWNWARD      PROGRESS.     ' 

nnilE  next  day  was  Saturday.     Oscar  was  off  most  of 
the  day  witli  his  comrades,  among  whom  he  was 
quite  a  lion  for  the  time.     During  one  of  the  brief  in- 
tervals that  he  was  in  the  house,  his  mother  said  some 
thing  about  his  going  to  school  on  Monday. 

"0  dear,  I  don't  want  to  go  to  school  again  this 
term,"  said  Oscar.  "  What 's  the  use  ?  Why,  it  's 
only  four  or  five  weeks  before  the  term  will  be  through.' 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  his  mother,  "  but  your  father  is 
very  anxious  that  you  should  get  into  the  High  School, 
and  he  thinks  you  can  do  it  if  you  finish  up  this 
term." 

"I  can't  do  it — I've  got  all  behindhand  with  ray 
studies,"  said  Oscar. 

"  0  yes,  you  can  if  you  try,"  replied  his  mother. 
"  You  might  have  got  into  the  High  School  last  year 


GOING     TO      SCHOOL.  285 

if  you  had  studied  a  little  harder.  You  were  almost 
qualified  then,  and  I  'm  sure  you  ought  to  be  now.  If 
you  find  you  are  behind  your  class  in  your  lessons,  you 
must  study  so  much  the  harder,  and  you  '11  get  up  with 
tliem  by-and-bye." 

"But  I  don't  believe  it  will  do  me  any  good  to  be 
confined  in  the  school-room,"  continued  Oscar.  "  I 
don't  think  I'm  so  strong  as  I  was  before  I  was  sick." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Preston,  "  when  you  're  sick  you 
need  not  go  to  school ;  but  I  guess  there  's  no  danger 
of  your  staying  at  home  for  that  reason,  at  present 
You  never  looked  better  in  your  life  than  you  do  now.'' 

Oscar  tried  his  pleas  again  in  the  evening  with  his 
father,  but  with  quite  as  poor  success.  He  saw  that  it 
was  fully  determined  that  he  should  resume  his  seat  at 
school,  and  he  reluctantly  submitted  to  this  decision. 
When  Monday  morning  came,  he  proceeded  to  school, 
but  found  that  his  old  desk  was  in  possession  of  another 
boy.  The  head  teacher  in  Oscar's  department  soon  ap- 
peared, and  seemed  quite  glad  to  see  him  once  more. 
He  appointed  Oscar  a  new  seat,  and  told  him  he  hoped 
he  would  study  so  diligently  as  to  make  up  for  lost  time. 

The   hopes    of    Oscar's   teacher    and   parents   were 


286  A      TALENT      FOR      MISSING. 

doomed  to  disappoiiitment.  It  was  soon  evident  that 
he  caced  less  about  his  lessons  than  ever.  He  was  be- 
hind his  class,  and  instead  of  redoubling  his  eflorts  to 
get  up  with  them,  he  became  discouraged  and  indiflfer- 
ent.  His  recitations  were  seldom  perfect,  and  often 
they  were  utter  failures.  His  teachers  coaxed,  and  en- 
couraged, and  ridiculed,  and  frowned,  and  punished, 
all  in  vain.  One  day,  after  Oscar  had  blundered  w^orse 
than  usual,  the  teacher  who  was  hearing  the  recitation 
said  to  him,  in  a  despairing  tone : 

"You  remind  me,  Oscar,  of  what  one  of  the  old  Ro- 
man emperors  said  to  an  archer  who  shot  his  arrows  a 
whole  day,  and  never  once  hit  the  mark.  He  told  him 
he  had  a  most  wonderful  talent  for  missing.  So  I  must 
say  of  you — you  've  got  the  greatest  talent  for  missing 
of  any  boy  I  know." 

Seeing  a  smile  on  the  faces  of  Oscar's  classmates,  he 
added : 

"  But  this  is  too  sober  a  matter  to  make  light  of. 
If  you  could  not  get  your  lessons,  it  would  be  a  differ- 
ent matter ;  but  I  know,  and  you  know,  that  this  is 
not  the  trouble.  You  are  quick  enough  to  learn  and 
\o  understand,  when  you  have  a  mind  to  be.     If  you 


somebody's    cap.  287 

would  only  try  to  get  your  lessons  as  hard  as  the  othei 
boys  do,  you.  would  n't  be  at  the  foot  of  the.  class  a 
great  while.  If  you  keep  on  in  this  way,  you  will  see 
your  folly  as  plainly  as  I  see  it  now,  before  you  are 
many  years  older." 

This  admonition  had  little  effect  upon  Oscar.  When 
school  was  dismissed,  a  few  minutes  after,  he  rushed  out 
with  as  light  a  step  as  any  of  his  comrades,  and  his 
gay  laugh  was  heard  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  entry. 
In  the  general  scramble  for  caps,  one  had  fallen  from 
its  peg,  and  instead  of  replacing  it,  tivo  or  three  of  the 
boys  were  making  a  football  of  it.  Oscar  joined  the 
sport,  and  gave  the  cap  a  kick  that  sent  it  part  of  the 
way  down  stairs.  A  moment  after,  he  met  Willie 
Davenport  returning  with  it. 

''  Halloo,  Whistler,  that  is  n't  your  cap,  is  it  ?"  inquired 
Oscar. 

"  No,  but  it 's  somebody'' s^^''  said  the  good-hearted  boy, 
as  he  brushed  off  the  dust,  and  put  the  lining  back  into 
its  place.  He  was  about  hanging  it  up,  when  Benny 
Wright  appeared,  and  claimed  it  as  his  property. 

Had  Oscar  known  that  the  cap  was  Benny's,  he 
would  not  have  made  a  foot-ball  of  it.      He  remem- 


288  BAD      BEHAVIOR. 

bered  tlie  kind  epistle  he  received,  when  sick,  and 
the  amusement  it  alForded  him,  v/hen  amusements 
were  scarce.  Since  his  recovery,  he  had  treated  Benny 
with  much  more  consideration  than  before,  and  quite  a 
kindly  feehng  had  sprung  up  between  them. 

Oscar  's  inattention  to  his  studies  was  not  his  only 
fault  at  school.  His  general  behavior  was  worse  than 
it  had  ever  been  before.  Vexed  that  he  was  compelled 
to  return  to  school  so  near  the  expiration  of  the  term, 
it  seemed  as  though  he  was  determined  to  make  as 
little  improvement  in  his  studies,  and  as  much  trouble 
for  his  teachers,  as  he  could.  He  not  only  idled  away 
his  own  time,  but  he  disturbed  other  boys  who  were 
disposed  to  study.  He  was  repeatedly  reproved  and 
punished,  but  reproof  and  punishment  did  no  good  ; 
on  the  contrary,  the}  seemed  rather  to  make  him 
worse.  The  teachers  at  length  gave  him  up  as  incor- 
rigible, and  consoled  themselves  with  the  thought  that 
his  connection  with  the  school  would  cease  in  two  or 
three  weeks,  at  which  time  his  class  would  graduate. 
They  still  aimed  to  keep  him  in  check,  during  school 
hours,  but  they  ceased  spending  their  time  and  breath 
in  trying  to  bring  about  a  reformation  in  his  conduct. 


THE      TOBACCO      SPITTLE.  280 

One  day  as  the  scholars  were'  engaged  in  \Yriting, 
the  master,  while  passing  ahong  among  the  boys,  and 
inspecting  their  wiiting-books,  noticed  that  somebody 
had  been  spitting  what  appeared  to  be  tobacco  juice, 
near  Oscar  's  seat.  This  was  a  violation  of  the  rules 
of  the  school,  and  the  teacher  concluded  not  to  let  it 
pass  unnoticed.  Having  no  doubt,  from  seveial  cir- 
cumstances, that  Oscar  was  the  offender,  he  said  to 
him  : 

"Oscar,  what  are  you  chewing  tobacco  in  school 
for,  and  spitting  the  juice  on  the  floor  ?" 

"I  have  n't  chewed  anj^  tobacco  this  afternoon,"  re- 
plied Oscar. 

"  What  is  it,  then,  that  you  have  been  spitting  upon 
the  floor  ?"  inquired  the  teacher. 

"I  have  n't  spit  upon  the  floor,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Who  did  that?"  continued  the  teacher,  pointing  to 
the  puddle  upon  the  floor. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Oscar  ;  "  it  was  there  when  I 
took  my  seat." 

It  w^as  possible  that  Oscar  told  the  truth,  but  the 
teacher  had  his  doubts.  He  might,  perhaps,  liave  set- 
tled the  matter  at  once  by  putting  a  question  to  one  or 
25 


290  A     S  E  A  R  C  H  . 

two  of  tlie  boys  who  sat  near  the  supposed  offender ; 
but  as  he  always  avoided  the  system  of  making  one 
boy  inform  against  another,  when  he  could  properly  do 
so,  he  took  another  course.  He  told  Oscar,  if  he  had 
any  tobacco  in  his  mouth,  or  anywhere  about  his  per- 
son, to  give  it  up  to  him.  Oscar  declared  that  he  had 
none. 

"  Let  me  look  into  your  mouth,"  said  the  teacher. 

Oscar  had  a  small  piece  of  the  weed  in  his  mouth, 
which  he  tucked  behind  his  upper  lip  with  his  tongue, 
and  then  opened  his  mouth.  The  teacher  of  course  sa»v 
nothino'  but  what  belonfred  there.  He  smelt  some- 
thing,  however,  that  left  him  no  longer  in  doubt  that 
Oscar  had  told  a  falsehood. 

"  I  can't  see  your  cud,  but  I  can  smell  it  plain 
enough,"  said  the  master;  "and  I '11  examine  your 
pockets,  if  you  please." 

Oscar  v/as  far  from  pleased  with  this  proposition, 
and  tried  to  prevent  its  being  carried  into  effect.  The 
master,  however,  easily  overcame  the  difficulties  he  put 
in  the  way,  and  running  his  hand  into  the  pocket  which 
he  seemed  most  anxious  to  defend,  brought  forth  a 
piece  of  tobacco  large  enough  to  kill  a  horse ! 


THE      NEW      COPY.  291 

"What  is  that?"  he  inquired,  hold  ing  the  contraband 
article  before  Oscar. 

Oscar  neither  looked  at  it  nor  made  any  reply. 

"  And  you  are  the  boy  who  said  a  moment  ago  that 
you  had  no  tobacco  about  you,"  continued  the  master 
"  I  declare  I  don't  know  what  tu  do  with  you.  I  hav 
said  and  done  all  that  I  can  to  mak«  a  better  boy  of  you, 
and  now  I  shall  report  this  matter  lo  your  father,  and 
let  him  settle  it  with  you.  But  I  want  you  to  reraemr 
ber  one  thing.  When  you  tell  me  a  lie,  you  break 
God's  law,  and  not  mine ;  and  you  can't  settle  the  mat-  *" 
ter  in  full  with  me,  or  any  other  human  being." 

The  teacher  then  threw  the  piece  of  tobacco  out  of 
the  open  window,  and  taking  Oscar's  writing-book,  told 
him  he  would  set  a  new  copy  for  him.  He  soon  re- 
turned, with  the  following  line  written  upon  the  top  of 
a  clean  page : 

"  Lying  li])8  are  abomination  to  the  LordP 

As  Oscar  wrote  this  fearful  sentence  over  and  over 
again,  he  could  not  fully  escape  the  force  of  its  mean- 
ino-.  It  reminded  him  of  his  feelings  durino'  his  recent 
illness,  when  at  times  the  terrible  thought  that  his  sick- 
ness might  possibly  be  unto  death  intruded  upon  his 


292  THE      COMPLAINT. 

mind.  But  tliougbts  of  God,  and  death,  and  £  future 
world,  were  alike  unpleasant  to  bim,  and  he  banished 
them  as  speedily  as  possible. 

During  the  afternoon,  the  principal  of  the  school 
wrote  a  letter  to  Mr.  Preston,  informing  bim  of  Oscar's 
ndolence  and  bad  conduct,  and  referiing  particularly  to 
the  incident  that  had  just  occurred.  By  way  of  oflset 
to  the  complaint,  he  spoke  in  very  high  terms  of  Ralph, 
who  attended  the  same  school,  but  was  in  another  de- 
partment and  another  room.  He  sent  the  letter  by 
Ralph,  but  told  him  not  to  let  Oscar  know  anything 
about  it.  Ralph  had  some  suspicions  of  the  nature  of 
the  letter,  but  he  did  his  errand  faithfully,  going  direct- 
ly from  school  to  his  father's  store. 

Mr.  Preston  was  at  first  veiy  much  irritated  by  the 
teacher's  complaints  of  Oscar's  misconduct;  and  could 
he  have  taken  the  culprit  in  hand  at  the  time,  he  would 
probably  have  handled  him  rather  roughly.  But  aev- 
eral  days  elapsed  before  he  found  it  convenient  to  talk 
with  Oscar  about  the  matter,  and  by  this  time. his  pas- 
sion had  subsided  into  anxiety  and  sorrow.  He  showed 
Oscar  the  lettei',  in  which  he,  the  eldest  son,  was  severe- 
ly censured,  and  his  little  brother  was  so  highly  com- 


PARENTAL      ANXIETY.  293 

mended.  AVith  tears  in  his  eyes,  he  warned  him  of  the 
dangers  before  him,  and  entreated  him  to  diange  his 
course. 

Oscar  had  never  seen  his  father  exhibit  so  much 
emotion  before.  Usually,  on  such  occasions,  he  was 
stern,  if  not  passionate  ;  more  ready  to  threaten  and 
punish  than  to  appeal  to  the  heart  and  conscience. 
Now,  all  this  was  changed,  and  sorrow  seemed  to  have 
taken  the  place  of  anger.  Oscar  was  somewhat  affect- 
ed by  this  unusual  manifestation  of  parental  anxiety. 
He  was  pretty  w^ell  hardened  against  scoldings  and 
threatenings,  but  he  did  not  know  how  to  meet  this 
new  form  of  rebuke.  He  tried  to  conceal  his  feelings, 
however,  and  preserved  a  sullen  silence  throughout  tho 
interview. 

This  affair  made  no  abiding  impression  U|)on  Oscar. 
In  a  day  or  two  it  was  forgotten,  and  the  slight  com- 
punctions he  felt  had  entirely  disappeared.  But  the 
schoolmaster's  complaint  was  soon  followed  by  another 
that  w^as  quite  as  unpleasant.  As  Mrs.  Preston  was  sit- 
ting at  her  sewing,  one  day,  the  door  suddenly  opened, 
and  in  came  Bridget,  the  servant  girl,  with  a  face  as  red 

as  rage  and  a  hot  fire  could  make  it. 
25* 


294  Bridget's    complaint. 

"I'll  be  goin'  off  this  night,  ma'am — I'll  pack  me 
chist,  and  not  stop  here  any  longer  at  all,"  said  Bridget, 
in  a  tone  that  betokened  her  anger. 

"Going  off — :\vhat  do  j^ou  mean?  You.  don't  say 
you  're  going  to  leave  us  so  suddenly,  Biddy  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Preston,  with  surprise. 

"  Yes,  that  I  be,"  replied  Bridget,  very  decidedly  ; 
"I'll  not  be  after  staying  in  the  same  house  with  that 
big,  ugly  b'y,  another  day." 

"  Who,  Oscar  ?  "What  has  he  done  now  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Preston. 

"  He 's  did  nothing  but  bother  the  life  out  o'  me 
ivery  day  since  he  coom  back,  that's  jist  all  he  's  did," 
replied  Biddy.  "  Jist  now,  ma'am,  he  slopped  over  a 
hull  basin  o'  dirty  whater  right  on  to  the  clane  floor, 
and  thin  laffed  at  me,  and  sassed  me,  and  called  me  all 
sorts  o'  bad  names — the  little  sass-box  !  It 's  not  the 
like  o'  Bridget  Mullikin  that  '11  put  up  with  his  dirty 
impidence  another  day.  I  'd  like  to  live  with  ye, 
ma'am,  and  Mister  Pristen,  good,  nice  man  that  he  is  ; 
but  I  can't  stop  to  be  trated  like  a  dog  by  that  sassy  b'y." 

"I'll  go  and  see  what  he  has  been  about,"  said  Mrs. 
Preston,  laying  down  her  w^ork. 


295 

When  they  reached  the  kitchen,  Oscar  was  not  to  be 
found.  There  was  the  puddle-  of  dirty  water  upon  the 
floor,  however,  and  so  far  Bridget's  story  was  corrobo- 
rated. As  she  proceeded  to  wipe  it  up,  she  continued 
to  speak  in  not  very  complimentary  terms  of  the  "  ugly 
b'y,"  as  she  delighted  to  call  Oscar.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Mrs.  Preston  attempted  to  soothe  her  ruffled 
spirits.  She  refused  to  be  comforted,  and  insisted  upon 
taking  her  departure  from  the  house  that  night. 

Oscar  did  not  make  his  appearance  again  until  late 
in  the  afternoon.  When  his  mother  called  him  to  ac- 
count for  his  treatment  of  Bridget,  he  denied  the  great- 
er part  of  hei-  story.  He  said  that  the  basin  of  water 
was  standing  upon  the  floor,  and  that  he  accidentally 
hit  it  with  his  foot,  and  upset  it.  He  denied  that  he 
called  her  bad  names  or  was  impudent,  but  he  admitted 
that  he  laughed,  to  see  her  so  angry.  He  also  com- 
plained that  she  was  as  "  cross  as  Bedlam"  to  him,  and 
"jawed"  him  whenever  he  entered  the  kitchen. 

Mrs.  Preston,  puzzled  by  these  contradictory  stories, 
Drought  the  two  contending  parties  face  .to  face,  in  hope 
of  either  eliciting  the  truth  or  effecting  a  treaty  of 
peace  between  them.     She  failed  in  both  objects,  h6w- 


296  FACTS     IN     THE     CASE. 

ever.  Biiciget  not  only  adhered  to  Ler  first  statement, 
but  boldly  accused  Oscar  of  sundry  other  misdeeds  that 
had  come  up  in  recollection  since  the  first  outbreak ; 
while  Oscar,  on  the  other  hand,  stoutly  denied  most  of 
her  charges,  and  insisted  that  she  was  ill-natured,  and 
irritated  him  in  every  possible  way.  The  contest  finally 
waxed  so  warm  between  them  that  Mrs.  Pieston  was 
obliged  to  interpose,  and  to  withdraw  with  Oscar. 

Mrs.  Preston  never  ascertained  the  real  facts  in  the 
case.  Candor  compels  me  to  say  that  Bi-iclget's  com- 
plaints were  essentially  true.  Knowing  the  poor  Irish 
girl's  weak  side  (her  quick  temper),  Oscar  had  for  some 
time  taxed  his  ingenuity  to  torment  her,  for  the  sake  of 
hearing  her  *'  sputter,"  as  he  termed  it.  He  was  not 
only  impudent,  and  applied  ofi'ensive  names  to  her,  bui 
sometimes  he  purposely  put  her  to  extra  labor  and 
trouble  by  misj^lacing  articles,  making  dirt  about  the 
house,  tfec.  These  things  were  a  sad  annoyance  to 
Bridget,  and  she  soon  came  to  regard  Oscar  as  ''  the 
plague  of  her  life,"  and  treated  him  accordingly.  He 
did  very  wrong  to  annoy  her  in  this  way  ;  and  she  was 
foolish  to  take  so  much  notice  of  his  hectoring.  The 
ill-will  thus  established  between  them  grew  day  by  day, 


1 


THE     EXAMINATION.  297 

until  it  resulted  in  the  open  rupture  just  described. 
But  Mis.  Preston  did  not  give  full  credit  to  Bridget's 
story.  She  believed  the  difficulty  was  owing  quite  as 
much  to  Biddy's  irritable  temper  and  ignorance  as  to 
Oscar's  impudence,  and  consequently  the  latter  escaped 
with  a  slight  reprimand.  She  also  prevailed  upon 
Bridget  to  remain  with  them  the  week  out,  thinking  she 
would  by  that  time  get  over  her  anger.  But,  to  the 
surprise  of  all,  when  Saturday  night  came,Biidget  took 
her  departure.  She  had  got  another  "place,"  where 
she  would  be  out  of  the  reach  of  the  provoking  Oscar. 
The  week  for  the  annual  examination  of  the  public 
schools  soon  arrived.  Oscar  begged  hard,  but  in  vain, 
for  permission  to  absent  himself,  on  the  eventful  day 
that  the  grave  committee  and  other  distinguished  visit- 
ors were  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  condition  of  the 
school  to  which  he  belono-ed.  But  thouo-h.  he  was 
present,  he  did  not  appear  to  much  advantage  among 
the  "  bright  particular  stars"  of  the  day ;  and  as  one 
and  another  of  the  flower  of  his  class  were  called  out, 
to  receive  the  "  Franklin  medals,"  his  name  was  not 
heard,  and  no  silken  ribbon,  with  silver  medal  attached, 
was  hung  around  his  neck. 


298  THE      CERTIFICATE, 

The  sara3  day,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  his 
father,  but  very  much  against  his  own  inclination,  Os- 
car applied  to  the  head  master  for  the  certificate  re- 
quired of  boys  who  present  themselves  for  admission  to 
the  High  School.  The  teacher  seemed  a  little  puzzled 
what  reply  to  make.     At  length  he  said  : 

"  Do  you  know  what  kind  of  a  certificate  is  required  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oscar,  who  had  read  the  adver- 
tisement in  the  paper  that  morning. 

"The  certificate  must  say  that  you  are  a  boy  of  good 
character,  and  that  your  teacher  believes  you  are  quali- 
fied for  admission  to  the  High  School,"  continued  the 
master.  "  j^ow  I  want  to  ask  you  'if  you  think  I  can 
honestly  say  that  of  you  !" 

Oscar  hung  his  head  in  shame,  but  made  no  reply. 
It  had  turned  out  just  as  he  feared  it  would. 

*'  It  is  very  hard  to  refuse  such  a  request,"  continued 
the  teacher ;  "  but,  really,  if  I  should  give  you  the  cer- 
tificate, I  am  afraid  it  would  do  you  no  good,  while  it 
might  do  me  some  harm,  for  I  don't  like  to  have  mj 
scholars  rejected.  I  cannot  honestly  say  that  I  think 
you  are  qualified  for  the  High  School ;  and  besides, 
your  conduct  has  been  such  of  late,  that  I  do  not  see 


MORTIFICATION.  299 

how  I  could  give  you  a  very  high  recommendation.  I 
would  advise  you  to  give  up  the  idea  of  applying  for 
admission.  I  am  very  sorry  it  is  so,  but  that  will  not 
help  the  matter." 

What  could  Oscar  say  to  this?  He  said  nothing,  hut 
his  looks  betrayed  the  deep  mortification  he  felt,  and 
moved  his  teacher  to  pity,  while  he  denied  his  request. 
^N'or  was  this  the  end  of  Oscar 's  troubles.  He  had  got 
to  face  his  father,  and  to  confess  to  him  that  he  was  found 
unworthy  even  to  be  a  candidate  for  the  school  foi* 
which  he  had  so  long  been  preparing.  In  doing  this, 
he  smoothed  over  the  matter  as  well  as  he  could  ;  but 
at  best  it  was  a  bitter  thing  to  him,  and  thus  he  began 
to  experience  some  of  the  sad  but  natural  effects  of  his 
own  misconduct. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 


NED     MIXER, 


ri'^HE  long  summer  vacation  liad  now  commenced. 
Oscar  wished  to  spend  it  at  Brookdale,  but  his 
parents  did  not  seem  much  inclined  to  yield  to  his 
wishes.  They  had  not  yet  fully  determined  what  to  do 
with  him  ;  whether  to  send  him  to  a  private  school, 
when  the  vacations  were  over,  or  to  put  him  to  work  in 
some  shop  or  store.  Meanwhile,  Oscar  was  idling  away 
his  time  about  the  streets,  and  devoting  all  his  energies 
to  the  pursuit  of  amusement.  His  favorite  place  of  re- 
sort continued  to  be  the  hotel  where  Alfred  Walton 
lived.  Here  he  found  congenial  spirits  in  Alfred,  and 
Andv  the  speller,  and  the  several  drivers  and  hostlers, 
with  \yhom  he  was  on  intimate  terms.  Here,  too,  he 
often  met  with  strangers  who  took  his  fancy. 

At  this  time,  a  boy  named  Edward  Mixer  was  boards 
ing  at  the  hotel,     He  had  lately  come  to  Boston  from 


A     NEW     ACQUAINTANCE.  301 

another  city,  and  Oscar  and  Alfred  were  soon  captivated 
by  his  free  and  easy  manners,  and  his  sociable  qualities. 
He  was  between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  old,  and  rep- 
resented that  be  was  travelling  about,  to  see  the  world. 
He  said  he  had  plenty  of  money,  and  should  have  a 
great  deal  more,  when  he  became  of  age.  He  was 
fashionably  dressed,  and  Oscar  and  Alfred  felt  proud 
of  his  acquaintance,  and  were  soon  on  terms  of  inti- 
macy with  him. 

It  was  not  long  before  Oscar  discovered  that  Edward 
was  a  very  bad  boy.  His  conversation  was  low  and 
,  profane,  and  he  seemed  to  take  special  delight  ia  relat- 
ing sundry  "scrapes,"  in  which  he  himself  figured  in  a 
character  that  was  something  worse  than  mischievous, 
and  bordered  on  the  criminal.  He  "talked  large,"  too, 
amazingly  large  ;  and  Oscar  and  Alfred  were  at  length 
forced  to  the  reluctant  conclusion  that  he  was  an  un- 
mitigated liar.  But  these  were  small  faults,  in  their 
view.  They  considered  Ned  a  capital  fellow,  and  a 
right  down  good  companion,  in  spite  of  these  little 
drawbacks,  and  they  sought  his  company  as  much  as 
ever. 

Ned  spent  a  good  deal  of  his  time  around  the  several 
26 


802  AN    EXCURSION. 

railroad  depots.  He  seemed  to  Lave  quite  a  mania  for 
sucli  places.  Oscar  and  Alfred  often  accompanied  liira 
to  these  favorite  old  haunts  of  theirs.  One  morning, 
as  the  three  were  loitering  around  a  depot,  having  no- 
thing in  particular  to  amuse  themselves  with,  an  excur- 
sion on  foot  into  a  neighboring  town  was  proposed, 
and  all  readily  agreed  to  the  suggestion.  They  imme- 
diately set  out,  accompanied  by  Oscar's  dog,  Tiger. 
They  walked  along  the  railroad  track,  and  crossed  the 
river  by  the  railroad  bridge,  thus  saving  their  tolls,  be- 
sides many  extra  steps.  They  passed  several  small 
sign-boards,  on  which  was  painted  the  warning,  "  iV^o 
Person  allowed  to  cross  this  Bridge  ;"  but  this  did  not 
check  their  progress,  and  as  no  one  interfered  with 
them,  they  were  soon  safely  over  the  river.  They  still 
followed  the  track  for  some  distance,  until  they  had 
reached  the  open  country,  and  then  they  turned  off  into 
the  green  fields. 

There  were  many  fine  orchards  and  gardens  on  every 
side,  but  ripe  fiuits  and  berries  were  very  scarce. 
Strawberries  and  cherries  had  pretty  much  disappeared, 
and  it  was  not  yet  time  for  plums,  peaches,  and  early 
apples  and  pears.   Ned  appeared  to  regret  this  wQvy  much. 


ROBBING     ORCHARDS. 

"Just  see  there  !"  he  exclaimed,  as  they  approached 
a  large  garden,  remote  from  any  house,  whose  ti'ees 
were  loaded  with  green  fruit.  "  What  fine  picking  we 
should  have,  if  it  were  only  a  few  weeks  later  !  I  mean 
to  come  out  here  again  next  month,  you  see  if  I  don't. 
"We  must  mark  this  place;  let  me  see;  there's  an  old 
rough  board  fence  —  I  shall  remember  that,  I  guess. 
Didn't  you  ever  rob  an  orchard,  Alf?  I've  robbed 
more  than  you  could  shake  a  stick  at.  I  'ra  a  first-rate 
hand  at  it,  I  can  tell  you — never  got  caught  in  my  life  ; 
but  I've  come  pretty  near  it,  though,  a  good  many 
times.  Hold  on — I  'm  going  to  get  over  the  fence,  and 
see  what  they  've  got.  Those  plums  over  there  look  as 
if  they  were  pretty  near  ripe.  Come,  Alf  and  Oscar, 
won't  you  get  over  ?" 

"You  two  may,"  said  Oscar,  "but  I  '11  stay  here  with 
Tiger.  He  might  bark  if  we  all  got  over,  where  he 
could  n't  see  us." 

Edward  and  Alfi-ed  were  soon  upon  the  other  side  of 
the  fence.  While  they  were  exploring  tlie  garden,  Os- 
car's attention  was  attracted  to  a  dense  thicket,  from 
which  two  or  three  birds  suddenly  flew  on  his  ap- 
proach.    He  thought  there  might  be  a  nest  there,  and 


304 


THE      BIRDS      NEST 


.0', 


concluded  to  see  if  he  could  find  it.  Carefully  brush- 
ing aside  the  leaves  and  twigs,  he  began  to  hunt  for  the 
suspected  nest,  while  Tiger  stood  looking  on.  Absorb- 
ed in  this  occupation,  he  lost  sight  of  his  comrades. 

After  searching  for  several  minutes,  Oscar  found  a 
small  nest,  within  his  reach,  but  it  was  empty.  He 
turned  to  inform  the  other  boys  of  his  success,  but 
they  were  nowhere  to  be  seen.  He  walked  along  by 
the  fence,  but  could  see  nothing  of  them.  He  wa 
afraid  to  call  to  them,  lest  the  owner  of  the  garden 
might  hear,  and  take  the  alarm.  He  listened,  but 
could  not  hear  them.     He  walked  alonof  still  further, 


THE      PURSUIT.  305 

and  kept  his  eyes  wide  open,  but  they  were  not  to  be 
seen.  He  conckided  they  were  playing  a  trick  upon 
him,  and  had  hid  themselves.  If  that  was  the  game, 
he  thought,  he  would  not  worry  himself  about  it.  He 
accordingly  turned  about,  and  was  going  to  sit  down 
and  wait  for  them  to  make  their  appearantje,  when  he 
happened  to  espy  them  in  a  distant  field,  running  at 
the  top  of  their  speed,  with  a  man  in  full  chase  after 
them.  It  was  soon  evident  that  the  boys  were  gaining 
on  their  pursuer ;  but  they  were  approaching  a  brook, 
over  which  there  was  no  bridge,  and  the  man  probably 
supposed  that  would  bring  them  to  a  stand.  It  did  not, 
however,  for  they  ran  right  through  the  shallow  water, 
without  stopping  to  think  about  it.  The  man  did  not 
think  it  prudent  to  follow  their  example,  and  he  ac- 
cordingly gave  up  the  chase,  and  went  back  with  dry 
feet. 

After  Edward  and  Alfred  had  got  rid  of  their  pur- 
suer, they  began  to  look  around  for  Oscar. '    The  latter, 
utting  his  fingers  into  his  mouth,  gave  a  loud  and 
shrill  whistle,  which  they  immediately  recognized,  and 
answered   in  a  similar    way.      Oscar    started   towards 

them,  and  taking  a  wide  sweep  through  the  fields,  they 
26* 


306 


PECULATION. 


all  came  out  together  upon  the  highway.  They  did 
not  think  it  safe  to  remain  long  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  so  they  hui'ried  on  towards  Boston.  It  appeared, 
from  Edward 's  story,  that  he  and  Alfred  knocked  a 
few  hard  peaches  from  a  tree,  while  in  the  gaiden,  but 
they  proved  unfit  to  eat.  They  also  found  some  ripe 
currants,  and  were  leisurely  helping  themselves,  when 
they  heard  somebody  ask  them  what  they  were  about. 
They  turned,  and  saw  a  man  approaching  ;  whereupon, 
without  stopping  to  answer  his  'question,  they  leaped 
over  the  fence,  and  took  to  their  heels,  the  man  follow- 
ing closely  upon  them.  The  conclusion  of  the  race 
Oscar  had  witnessed. 

As  they  were  walking  home,  and  talking  about  va- 
rious matters,  Edward  suddenly  gave  the  conversation 
a  new  turn,  by  inquiring  : 

"  Boys,  do  you  want  to  go  into  a  grand  speculation 
with  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  what  is  it  ?"  was  the  response  of  both  the 
others. 

"We  should  make  something  handsome  out  of  it, 
but  we  should  have  to  run  some  risk,"  continued  Ed- 
ward.    "  I  've  got  the  scheme  all   laid  out,  so  that  I 


KEEPING      IT      SECRET.  307 

know  just  Low  to  go  to  work.  But  it 's  no  use  talking 
about  it.  I  don't  believe  either  of  you  have  got  pluck 
enoup'h  to  g-o  into  it." 

"  I  Ve  got  pluck — the  real,  genuine  article  ;  try  me, 
and  see  if  I  have  n't,"  said  Alfred. 

"So  have  I,"  said  Oscar;  "I  should  like  to  have 
you  show  me  a  boy  that  's  got  more  pluck  than  I 
have,  when  I  get  stirred  up." 

"  Pooh,  you  don't  know  what  pluck  is,  neither  of 
you,"  replied  Edward.  "  What  would  you  do  if  a 
policeman  sliouhl  nnb  you  ?" 

"I  should  run,  just  as  you  did,  when  the  man  caught 
you  stealing  fruit,"  said  Oscar,  with  a  laugh.  "That's 
a  specimen  of  you7'  pluck,  aint  it?" 

"  But  what  is  the  speculation  you  were  tehing 
about  ?"    inquired   Alfred. 

"I  guess  I  shan't  tell  you  about  it  now,"  replied  Ed- 
ward.   "  I  'm  afraid  you  would  n't  keep  it  to  yourselves." 

"  Yes  we  will.     /  will  at  any  rate,"  said  Alfred. 

"  So  will  I,"  added  Oscar. 

"If  I  let  you  into  the  secret,  and  you  should  blab  it 
out,  I  would  n't  mind  killing  both  of  you,"  said  Edward, 
with  forced  gravity,  which  he  could  not  long  maintain, 


308  Oscar's    uncle. 

it  g-radually  relaxing  into  a  smile.  "  I  mean  what  I 
say,"  he  added,  "  you  need  n't  laugh  at  it." 

Both  the  others  renewed  their  promise  to  keep  the 
matter  a  secret ;  but  Edward,  after  talking  about  his 
scheme  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer,  and  exciting  the 
curiosity  of  the  others  to  the  highest  point,  finally  in- 
formed them  that  he  could  not  let  them  into  the  secret 
then,  but  that  he  would  tell  them  all  about  it  in  a  few 
days,  if  he  was  sure  that  they  would  keep  it  to  them- 
selves. 

Oscar  saw  Edward  almost  every  day,  and  often  in- 
quired about  his  speculation,  but  got  no  definite  answer. 
He  and  Alfred  both  felt  very  curious  to  know  what  it 
was;  but  though  expectation  was  on  tiptoe,  it  was  iiot 
gratified.  Edward  assured  them,  however,  that  things 
were  nearly  ready,  and  that  in  a  few  days  he  would  let 
them  into  the  mysterious  scheme. 

Oscar's  uncle,  from  Brookdale,  was  now  in  the  city, 
and  was  stopping  for  a  few  days  at  Mr.  Preston's. 
He  no  sooner  arrived,  than  Oscar  applied  to  his  parents 
for  permission  to  return  with  him  to  Maine ;  but  they 
did  not  give  much  encouragement  to  his  proposal,  al- 
thouo-h  his  uncle  said  he  should  hke  to  have  him  make 


THE      POLICEMAN.  309 

his  fiiraily  another  visit.  Oscar,  however,  daily  renewed 
his  request,  for  he  believed  that  he  should  yet  accom- 
plish his  object  by  teasing. 

The  day  before  Oscar's  uncle  was  to  return  to  his 
home,  a  gentleman  called  into  Mr.  Pi-eston's  store,  and 
told  him  he  wished  to  see  him  alone.  Having  with- 
drawn to  a  private  room,  the  stranger  introduced  him- 
self as  an  officer  of  the  police. 

"  You  have  a  son  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old  ?" .  in- 
quired the  officer. 
"  "  Yes,  I  have,"  replied  Mr.  Preston. 

"  Are  you  aware  that  he  is  getting  into  bad  com- 
pany ?'•  continued  the  officer. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Preston. 

"  Well,"  resumed  the  other,  "  I  've  called  to  acquaint 
you  of  a  few  facts  that  have  come  to  my  knowledge, 
and  you   can   act  in   the    matter   as  you    think   best. 

There  is  a  young  fellow  stopping  at   the  Hotel, 

who  came  to  this  city  a  few  weeks  ago,  and  who  calls 
himself  Edward  Mixer.  He  is  a  little  larger  than  your 
son,  and  is  well  dressed,  and  looks  like  a  respectable 
boy  ;  but  for  a  week  or  two  past  we  have  suspected 
that  he  was  a  rogue.     He  hangs  around  the  railroad 


310  DISCLOSURES. 

depots,  and  as  several  persons  have  had  their  pockets 
picked,  when  getting-  out  of  the  cars,  since  he  made  his 
appearance,  we  began  to  watch  him.  We  have  got  no 
evidence  against  him  yet ;  but  yesterday  I  pointed  hira 
out  to  a  New  York  policeman,  who  happened  to  be 
here,  and  he  says  he  knows  him  well.  It  seems  he  is 
a  regular  pickpocket  by  profession,  and  has  served  a 
term  at  Black  well's  Island.*  He  was  liberated  last 
month,  and  came  on  here  to  follow  the  business  where 
he  isn't  known.  But  we  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  him, 
and  as  we  have  noticed  that  your  son  is  quite  intimate 
with  him,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  inform  you  of  it.  I 
don't  suppose  your  boy  knows  the  real  character  of  this 
fellow,  or  has  anything  to  do  with  his  roguery  ;  but 
it  is  n't  safe  for  him  to  be  in  such  company,  and  I 
thought  you  ought  to  know  what  is  going  on." 

Mr.  Preston  thanked  the  officer  very  cordially  for  the 
information,  and  promised  to  see  that  Oscar  was  imme- 
diately put  out  of  the  way  of  danger  from  this  source. 
When  he  went  home  at  noon,  he  had  a  long  private 
interview  with  his  son,  and  informed  him  of  the  disclos- 
ures the  officer  had  made.  Oscar  was  not  a  little 
*  The  iSTew  York  Penitentiary. 


E  EPR  O  OF  S.  311 

astonished  to  learn  that  the  genteel  and  sociable  N.-d 
Mixer,  whose  company  he  prized  so  highly,  was  a  thief 
by  trade,  and  was  fresh  from  a  prison.  He  assured  his 
father  that  he  knew  nothing  of  all  this.  This  was  true; 
but  after  all  Oscar  knew  too  much  of  the  character  of 
Ned  to  believe  him  to  be  a  good  boy,  or  a  safe  com- 
panion. He  had  heard  him  swear  and  lie.  He  had 
also  heard  him  sneer  at  virtue,  and  boast  of  deeds  that 
no  well-ordered  conscience  would  approve.  And  yet  he 
courted  his  company,  and  considered  him  a  "  capital 
fellow"  !     O,  foolish  boy  ! 

But  Oscar's  plea  of  ignorance  did  not  fully  excuse 
him,  even  in  the  eye  of  his  father,  who  did  not  know 
how  little  force  that  plea  really  had. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  knew  his  character,"  said  Mr. 
Preston  ;  "  but  are  there  not  good  boys  enough  in  the 
neighborhood  for  you-to  associate  with — boys  that  have 
always  lived  here  and  are  well  known — without  your 
cultivating  the  acquaintance  of  every  straggler  and 
vagabond  that  comes  along?  I  wish  you  would  not 
make  yourself  so  intimate  with  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry, 
before  you  know  anything  about  them.  I  've  cautioned 
you  against  this  a  good  many  times,  and  now  I  hope 


312  Oscar's    departure. 

that  you  '11  see  there  is  some  cause  for  it.  If  this  inti- 
macy had  gone  on  a  few  weeks  longer,  it  might  have 
ruined  you  and  disgraced  your  mother  and  me." 

After  consultation  with  his  wife  and  brother,  Mr. 
Preston  concluded  to  let  Oscar  go  down  to  Brookdale, 
and  remain  until  they  could  make  some  permanent  ar- 
rangements for  him  elsewhere.  He  did  not  think  it 
safe  for  him  to  remain  longer  exposed  to  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  city.  He  charged  Oscar  not. to  speak  again 
to  Ned,  and  not  to  inform  any  one  of  the  facts  he  had 
learned  about  him,  lest  it  might  thwart  the  efforts  of 
the  police  to  detect  his  rogueries.  On  second  thought, 
he  concluded  to  take  Oscar  to  the  store  with  him  that 
afternoon,  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  an  interview  be- 
tween him  and  I*Ted.  •  Oscar  thus  remained  under  the 
eye  of  his  father  through  the  day.  In  the  evening  he 
packed  his  valise  for  the  journey,  and  the  next  morning 
he  started  for  Brookdale  with  his  uncle. 

A  day  or  two  after  Oscar  's  departure,  Ned  was  ar- 
rested in  the  act  of  picking  a  lady's  pocket  at  a  rail- 
road depot.  Being  unable  to  obtain  bail,  he  was  com- 
mitted for  trial.  When  his  case  came  up  in  court,  he 
was  brought  in  guilty  ;  and  it  appearing,  from  the  tes- 


CONCLUSION.  313 

timony  of  the  ofBcers,  that,  though  young,  he  was 
quite  old  in  crime,  he  was  sentenced  to  one  year  in 
the  House  of  Correction. 

Oscar  never  ascertained  the  nature  of  Ned 's  "grand 
speculation,"  and  probably  it  was  well  for  him  that  he 
did  not.  Had  he  been  let  into  the  secret,  and  had  the 
scheme  been  carried  into  effect  at  the  time  it  was  first 
talked  of,  I  might  have  been  obliged  to  add  another 
and  a  still  sadder  chapter  to  t)-is  history  of  "  the  boy 


27 


THE     E  N  B^ 


VALUABLE  WOEKS  FOR  THE  YOUIVG. 


YOUXG  AMEEICAXG  ABROAD  ;  or,  Vacation  in  Europe  : 
the  llesults  of  a  Tour  throi'^h  Great  Britain,  France,  Holland,  Belgium, 
Germany,  and  Switzerland.  I'y  John  Overton  Choules,  D.  D.,  and 
his  Pupils.    With  Eleqant  L'li'strAtions.    16mo,  cloth,  75  cts. 

A  highly  entertaining  work  embra'^ii'g  lixore  real  information,  such  as  every  one 
wishes  to  know  about  Europe,  than  any  other  book  of  travels  ever  published. 

Three  intelligent  lads,  who  knew  how  to  use  their  eyes,  accompanied  their  tutor 
on  a  European  tour ;  and,  from  a  carefulh'-kept  journal,  they  wrote  out,  in  a  series  of 
letters  to  a  favorite  companion  in  study,  .it  liome,  their  impressions  ot  the  most  re- 
markable places  en  route.  Th3  pencillincs  are  genuine  and  unaffected,  and  in  all 
respects  form  an  interesting  and  ius'^ructive  record  of  travel.—  Sartam's  Magazine. 

One  of  the  most  instructive  and  delightful  Inoks  of  the  age.  —  Southern  Lit.  Gaz. 

Boys,  here  is  a  book  that  will  suit  you  exacCy-  I^  is  a  series  of  letters  from  certain 
boys  travelling  in  Europe  to  their  class'^ates  L.\  Ihis  oountry.  It  will  LToprove  your 
knowledge  and  amuse  you  during  long  Winter  rights.  —  Methodist  Prot, 

It  is  worth  much  more  than  many  a  larger  and  iKi  >re  pretenticua  Volume,  fol'  giviii£l 
a  daguerreotype  of  things  abroad.  —  Cong '  ''yation  'Zisi. 

A  beautiful  book  for  young  people,  unlike  any  thin^;  VC  have  e^'tX  -loen.  —  Ch.  Ob- 

Most  interesting  book  that  can  be  put  irto  Jhe  han(  "st^f  tl^  younf.  -  Olive  Lrmi.-h. 

The  best  book  of  foreign  travel  for  youth  to  be  founo'.  i^  tie  vhoK^  i""i,ige  of  AmO 
can  literature.  —  Buffalo  Morning  Express. 

THE    ISLAND    HOME;    or,    the   YouPfe'    CastaV/^ys.     By 

Christopher  Ro.aiaunt,  Esq.    With  Eleganl  Tk-s, ration ?.    75  cts. 

The  best  and  prettiest  book  for  boys  that  we  have  lately  se'u  —  .Boston  Post. 

A  stirring  and  unique  work.    It  will  interest  the  Jut^nilc  )7ien  rasv'j.  —  Oiire  Br. 

Delightful  narrative  of  the  adventures  of  six  boys  wt  >  put  to  soa  f ^  an  open  boat- 
and  were  drifted  to  a  desert  island,  where  they  lived  in  the  mannor  of  ilobinsou  Qrw 
Boe.  —  ^\  Y.  Com. 

A  book  of  great  interest,  and  one  which  will  be  a  treat  to  any  boy  ^'H^'uz  Circle. 

The  young  will  pore  over  its  pages  with  almost  enchan(ed  interest.—  T)-'^nicript. 

A  modern  Robinson  Crusoe' story,  without  the  dreary  solitude  of  that  lamc-is  here 
It  will  amuse  and  instruct  the  young  in  no  ordinary  degree.  —  &!'f//e)r  Z'.t.  Gazette 

A  story  that  bids  fair  to  rival  the/ar-famed  Robinson  Crusoe.  V/e  becom:  as  t^nch 
interested  in  the  Max,  Johnn}',  Arthur,  and  the  rest  of  the  goodly  company,  ps  iC  the 
Swiss  Family  Robinson.  -  Sartain's  Magazine. 

THE  AMERICAN  STATESMAN  ;  or,  Illustrations  of  tnh 
Life  and  Character  of  Daniel  Webster,  for  the  Entertainment  an(^ 
Instruction  of  American  Youth.  By  the  Rev.  Joseph  Ban^-'ARD,  au- 
tiiorof  "  Plymouth  and  the  Pilgrims,"  "Novelties  of  the  New  World," 
"  Romance  of  American  History,"  etc.     With  elegant  Illustrations.    75c. 

1^-  A  work  of  great  interest,  presenting  a  sketch  of  the  most  striking  and  impor- 
tant events  which  occurred  in  the  history  of  the  distinguished  statesman,  Daniel 
Webster,  avoiding  entirely  all  points  of  apolitical  character ;  holding  up  to  view,  for 
the  admiration  and  emul.ntion  of  American  youth,  only  bis  commendable  traits  of 
charncter.  It  is  just  such  a  work  as  every  American  patriot  would  wish  his  cliildren 
to  read  and  reflect  upon.  W 


THE    CAPTIVE    IN    PATAGONIA; 

OR  LIFE   AMONG   THE   GIANTS. 
By  Benjamin  F.  Bourne.     With  Illustrations.     12mo,  cloth,  85  cts. 

This  work,  by  Captain  Bourne, —  who  was  talten  captive  and  retained  three  months 
by  tlie  Patagonians,  —  gives  an  account  of  his  capture  and  final  escape;  a  description 
of  tliis  strange  people  ;  their  manners,  customs,  habits,  pursuits;  the  country, its  soil 
productions,  etc.,  of  which  little  or  nothing  has  heretofore  been  known,  es-  A  work 
of  thrilling  interest,  and  of  instruction  to  every  class  of  readers. 

Anj'  book,  descriptive  of  a  country  which  is  almost  like  fable  land  to  the  civilized 
world,  must  possess  great  interest;  but  this  work,  besides  liaving  this  attraction,  is 
written  with  mucli  vigor  and  spirit,  and  is  replete  with  a  varietj^  of  interesting  facts, 
icscriptive  oJ  the  manners,  customs,  character,  etc.,  of  the  Patagonians.  —  Sai:  Jour. 

A  work  of  thrilling  interest,  and  bids  fair  to  be  another  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  Cap- 
tain Bourne  is  well  known  and  highly  respected  in  this  community  ;  and  the  narra- 
tive of  his  strange  adventures,  startling  and  romantic  as  they  may  seem,  can  be  relied 
upon  as  strictly  true.  —  Santucket  Eagle. 

We  have  seldom  read  a  work  of  such  intense  interest.  —  X.  H.  Sentinel. 

This  is  a  narrative  of  great  interest.  —  Phil.  Ch.  Observer. 

We  question  whether  the  scenes,  tri.ils,  hardships,  adventures,  etc.,  could  have  been 
more  vividly  drawn  had  they  emanated  from  the  pen  of  an  Ieving  or  a  Coopek. — 
Rutland  (  Vt.)  Herald. 

The  author  is  known  as  a  respectable  man,  and  one  of  high  integrity ;  and  from  Jiis 
own  experience  has  given  particulars  of  the  manners,  customs,  habits,  and  pursuits 
of  the  natives.    It  is  a  thrilling  narrative,  and  as  exciting  as  Typee.  —  Newi^ort  Merc. 

No  work  of  romance  can  exceed  to  enchain  the  mind  and  awaken  interest.  —  Cong, 

Seldom,  if  ever,  have  we  perused  a  work  with  so  intense  an  interest.  No  work  of 
romance  can  excel  it  in  power  to  enchant  the  mind,  and  awaken  a  nervous  desu-e  to 
possess  the  valuable  information  whicli  it  communicates.  —  Amherst  Express. 

Having  begun  it  one  evening,  we  would  not  quit  until  the  book  had  been  finished. 
—  2Io7itpelier  Journal. 

Uncle  Tom  may  stand  aside  for  the  present.  Sirs.  Stowe  may  herself,  as  well  as 
her  readers,  listen  to  the  tale  of  a  New  Bedford  sailor.  His  narrative  is  one  that  can- 
not fail  to  move  both  to  smiles  and  tears,  —  containing  touches  of  the  broadest  and 
most  genial  humor,  as  well  as  passages  of  simple  pathos,  wliich  dissolve  the  soul  in 
sympathy.  —  B.  H.  Aurora. 

Possessing  all  the  interest  of  real  adventure,  with  all  the  atti-activeness  of  romance, 
we  do  not  wonder  at  its  popularity.  —  Boston  Atlas. 
'  ^ye  have  never  before  perused  any  pei-sonaJ  narrative  that  has  interested  us  as  this 
one.  —  Fountain  and  Journal,  Me. 

AYe  have  scarcely  been  able  to  leave  its  attractive  pages.  If  the  reader  wishes  to  be 
amused,  instructed,  delighted,  and  benefited,  he  cannot  do  better  than  to  procure  a 
copy. —  Gardiner  Evening  Transcript. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  BANKING;  with  a  Comprehensive 
Account  of  the  Origin,  Rise,  and  Progress  of  the  Banks  of  England,  Ire- 
land, and  Scotland.  B.v  William  John  Lawson.  First  American 
Edition.  Revised,  with  numerous  additions.  By  J.  Smith  Homans, 
Editor  of  Bankers'  Magazine.     1  vol.  octavo,  2,00. 

C3~  A  novel  book,  yet  interesting  and  instructive ;  containing  anecdotes  of  men 
who  have  figured  largely  in  the  business,  cases  of  forgeries,  counterfeits,  detections, 
trials,  etc.  R 


VALUABLE  WORKS  FOR  THE  YOUKG. 

BY   EEV.  HAEVSY    ITEWCOMB. 


nO^Y  TO  BE  A  MAN  -,  a  Book  for  Boys,  containing  Useful 
Hints  on  the  Formation  of  Cliaracter.     Cloth,  gilt,  50  cts. 

"My  design  in  writins  has  been  to  contribute  something  towards  forming  tlie  char- 
acter of  those  who  are  to  be  our  future  electors,  legislators,  governors,  judges,  minis- 
ters, la^\ycrs,  and  physicians,  —  after  the  best  model.  It  is  intended  for  boys  —  or,  if 
j'ou  please,  for  young  gentlemen,  in  early  youth."  —  Preface. 

"  How  to  be  a  IMan  "  is  an  inimitable  little  volume.  AVe  desire  that  it  be  widely  cir- 
culated.   It  sliould  be  put  into  the  hands  of  every  youth  in  the  land.  —  Tenn.  Lap. 

HOW  TO  BE  A  LADY ;  a  Book  for  Girls,  containing  Useful 
Hints  on  tlie  Formation  of  Character.     Cloth,  gilt,  50  cts. 

"  Having  daughters  of  his  own,  and  having  been  many  years  employed  in  -writing 
for  the  young,  he  liopes  to  offer  some  good  advice,  in  an  entertaining  way,  for  girls  or 
misses,  between  the  ages  of  eight  and  tifteon.  His  object  is,  to  assist  them  in  forming 
their  characters  upon  the  best  model;  that  they  may  become  well-bred,  intelligent,  re- 
fined, and  good ;  and  then  they  will  be  real  ladies,  in  the  highest  sense."  —  Preface. 

Parents  will  consult  the  interests  of  their  daughters,  for  time  and  eternity,  in  mak- 
ing them  acquainted  witli  this  attractive  and  most  useful  volume.  —  X.  Y.  Ecangelkt. 

The  following  Xotices  apply  to  hotli  the  above  Volumes. 

It  would  be  better  for  tlie  next  generation  if  every  youth  would  "read,  learn,  and 
inwardly  digest "  the  cont  jnts  of  these  volumes.  —  X.  Y.  Commercial. 

These  volumes  contain  much  matter  which  is  truly  valuable.  —  J/er.  Jowz-na/. 

Thoy  contain  wise  and  important  counsels  and  cautions,  adapted  to  the  young,  and 
made  entertaining  by  the  interesting  style  and  illustrations  of  the  autlior.  They  are 
tine  mirrors,  in  which  are  reflected  the  prominent  lineaments  of  the  dirisfian  jiouncj 
gentleman  and  young  lady.    Elegant  lorcseuts  for  the  young.  —  American  Pulpit. 

Xcwcomb's  books  are  excellent.    We  are  pleased  to  commend  them.  —  X.  Y.  Obs. 

They  are  books  well  calculated  to  do  good.  -  Phil.  Ch.  Chronicle. 

Common-sense,  practical  hints  on  the  formation  of  character  and  habits,  and  are 
adapted  to  the  improvement  of  youth.  —  Mothers'  Jounml. 

ANECDOTES   EOR  BOYS;   Entertaining  Anecdotes  and 
Narratives,  illustrative  of  Principles  and  Character.     ISmo,  gilt,  42  cts. 

ANECDOTES  EOR  GIRLS  ;   Entertaining  Anecdotes  and 
Narratives,  illustrative  of  Principles  and  Character.     18mo,  gilt,  42  cts. 

Interesting  and  instructive,  without  being  fictitious.  The  anecdotes  are  many, 
short,  and  spirited,  with  a  moral  drawn  from  each,  adapted  to  every  age,  condition, 
and  duty  of  life.    We  commend  them  to  families  and  schools.  --  Albany  Spectator. 

Works  of  great  value,  for  a  truth  or  principle  is  sooner  instilled  into  the  j^onthful 
heart  by  an  anecdote,  than  in  any  other  way.    They  are  well  selected.  —  Pv'g  Gaz. 

Nothing  has  a  greater  interest  for  a  youthful  mind  than  a  well-told  story,  and  no 
medium  of  conveying  moral  instructions  so  attractive  or  so  successful.  Tlie  influ- 
ence is  far  more  powerful  when  the  child  is  assured  tliat  they  are  <»■?(?.  We  cannot 
too  strongly  recommend  them  to  parents.  —  Western  Continent,  Baltimore.      V 


MY    FIRST    IMPRESSIONS 
OF    ENGLx\.ND    AND    ITS    PEOPLE. 

By  Hugh  Miller,  author  of  "  Old  Red  Sandstone,"  "  Foot- 
prints of  the  Creator,"  etc.,  with  a  fine  likeness  of  tlie  author.    12mo,  1,00. 

Let  not  the  careless  reader  imagine,  from  the  title  of  this  book,  that  it  is  a  common 
book  of  travels,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  very  remarkable  one,  both  in  design,  spi-it,  and 
execution.  The  facts  recorded,  and  the  views  advanced  in  this  book,  are  so  fresh, 
vivid,  and  natural,  that  we  cannot  but  commend  it  as  a  treasure,  both  of  information 
and  entertainment.  —  WilliJi's  Home  Jovrnul. 

This  is  a  noble  book,  worthy  of  the  author  of  the  Footprints  of  the  Creator  and  the 
Old  Red  Sandstone,  because  it  is  seasoned  with  tlie  same  power  of  vivid  description, 
the  same  minuteness  of  observation,  and  soundness  of  criticism,  and  the  same  genial 
piety.  "\Ve  liave  read  it  with  deep  interest,  and  with  ardent  admiration  of  the  au- 
thor's temper  and  genius.  It  is  almosi  impossible  to  laj'  tlie  book  down,  even  to  at- 
tend to  more  pressing  matters.  It  is,  without  compliment  or  hyperbole,  a  most  de- 
lightful volume.  —  X.  T.  Commercial. 

This  is  a  most  amusing  and  instructive  book,  by  a  master  hand.  —  Bern.  Rev. 

The  author  of  this  work  proved  himself,  in  the  Footprints  of  the  Creator,  one  of  the 
most  original  thinkers  and  powerful  writers  of  the  age.  In  the  volume  before  us  he 
adds  new  laurels  to  his  reputation.  Whoever  wishes  to  understand  the  character  of 
VnQ  present  race  of  Englishmen,  as  contradistinguished  from  past  generations;  to 
comprehend  tlie  workings  of  political,  social,  and  religious  agitation  in  the  minds,  not 
of  the  nobility  or  gentry,  but  of  the  peojile,  will  discover  that,  in  this  volume,  he  has 
found  a  treasure.  —  Peterson's  Zlagazine. 

His  eyes  were  open  to  see,  and  his  ears  to  hear,  every  thing ;  and,  as  the  result  of 
what  he  saw  and  heard  in  "  merrie  "  England,  he  has  made  one  of  the  most  spirited 
and  attractive  volumes  of  travels  and  observations  that  we  have  met  with.  —  Trav. 

Hi  gh  Miller  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable,  entertaining,  and  instructive  writers  of 
the  age.  We  know  of  no  work  in  England  so  full  of  adaptedness  to  the  age  as  this. 
It  opens  up  clearly  to  view  the  condition  of  its  various  classes,  sheds  new  light  into 
its  social,  moral,  and  religious  history,  its  geological  peculiai-ities,  and  draws  conclu- 
6io;is  of  great  \a.\\xQ.  —  Albamj  Spectator, 

The  author,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  age,  arranged  for  this  journey 
into  England,  expecting  to  "  lodge  in  humble  cottages,  and  wear  a  humble  dress,  and 
see  what  was  to  be  seen  by  humble  men  only,  —  society  without  its  mask."  Such  an 
observer  might  be  expected  to  bring  to  view  a  thousand  things  unknown,  or  partially 
known  before  ;  and  abundantly  does  he  fulfil  this  expectation.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
absorbing  books  of  the  time.  —  Portland  Ch.  Jlirror. 


NEW    WORK. 

MY  SCHOOLS   AND  SCHOOLMASTERS; 

OR  THE   STORY  OF   MY  EDUCATION. 

Br    Hugh  jNTiller,  author  of  "  Footprints  of  the  Creator," 
"  Old  Red  Sandstone,"  "  First  Impressions  of  England,''  etc.     12nio,  cl. 

This  is  a  personal  narrative  of  a  decph'  interesting  and  instructive  character,  con- 
cerning one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  age.  Ko  one  who  purchases  this  book 
will  have  occasion  to  regret  it,  our  word  for  it !  U 


]Li:AS\:^T   PAGES  FOR  YOUiNG  TEOPLE ; 

OK,  BOOK  OF  HOME  EDUCATION  AND  ENTERTAINMENT. 

Bv  S.  Pkout  Newcombe.    With  numerous  Illustrations.    75c. 

tsr  This  work  is  designed  for  the  pleasure  and  profit  of  young  people  ;  and,  as  the 
title  indicates,  intended  as  an  aid  to  Home  Education.  The  great  variety  of  subjects 
presented,  consisting  of  Moral  Lessons,  Natural  History,  History,  Travels,  Physical 
Geography,  Object  Lessons,  Drawing  and  Perspective,  Music.  Poetry,  etc.,  and  withal, 
so  skilfully  treated  as  to  make  truth  simple  and  attractive,  renders  it  an  admirable 
family  book  for  winter  evenings  and  summer  days. 

A  very  excellent  book.  History,  philosophy,  science,  stories,  and  descriptions  of 
games  are  all  mingled  together,  and  he  who  does  not  like  the  compound  must  be  hard  ) 
to  please.  —  Fost.  [ 

Pleasant  pages,  containing  inform.ation  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects.  Here  we 
have  science  and  art  made  plain  and  captivating.  The  lessons  in  drawing  and  per- 
spective alone  are  worth  the  price  of  the  volume.  And  then  a  thousand  questions 
which  the  intelligent  young  mind  raises  are  here  answered.  —  Parlor  Magazine. 

This  is  indeed  a  home  book  of  endless  amusement.  —  Boston  Atlas. 

An  admirable  book  of  home  education.    We  commend  it  to  families.  —  ATb.  Spec. 

A  work  admirably  adapted  to  the  instruction  and  amusement  of  the  young.  —  Reg. 

A  pleasant  book,  full  of  all  sorts  of  information  upon  all  sorts  of  subjects.—  Jo  w. 

One  of  the  most  delightful  works  for  young  people  we  have  ever  met  with.  Few- 
persons,  young  or  old,  could  examine  its  pages  without  gaining  knowledge  of  a  useful 
kind.  It  is  one  of  the  most  successful  combinations  of  the  pleasant  with  the  useful 
to  be  found.  —  Daily  Advertiser. 

A  book  of  not  only  "  pleasant  pages,"  but  of  singularly  instructive  pflges.  Even 
people  not  so  very  young  might  be  profited  by  its  perusal.  —  South  Boston  Gazette. 

It  presents  much  solid  information,  and  opens  before  the  young  new  fields  of  ob- 
servation.   The  youngsters  will  clap  their  hands  with  joy.  -  Scientific  American. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  valuable  information  communicated  in  a  very  simple  and 
easy  way.  While  it  is  full  of  useful  instruction  to  children,  it  is  also  suggestive  to 
those  who  are  called  to  conduct  their  education.—  Puritan  Recorder. 

We  like  this  book :  it  is  well  fitted  for  the  family  library.  The  young  hke  facts  ; 
when  these  arc  set  forth  in  a  pleasant  way,  the  interest  is  greater  than  fiction  ever 
awakens,  unless  the  fiction  is  made  to  appear  hke  truth.  —  Godey's  Ladies'  Book. 

THE  GUIDING  STAR  ;  or,  The  Bible  God's  Message.    By 
Louisa  Payson  Hopkins.    With  Frontispiece.    16mo,  cloth,  50  cts. 

An  excellent  work  to  put  into  the  hands  of  youth.  It  is  written  in  conversational 
style,  and  opens  up  most  beautifully,  and  with  great  simplicity,  the  great  leading  ev- 
idences that  the  Bible  contains  God's  message  to  man.  Those  seeking  after  truth  will 
find  it  worthy  of  frequent  perusal.—  Dk.  Speague,  in  Albany  Spectator. 

We  cordially  commend  the  work  to  parents,  children,  and  Sabbath  schools.  —  Cong. 

This  volume  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  youthful  reader,  and  adult  persons 
would  find  it  not  only  interesting,  but  instructive.  —  Ch.  Chron. 

The  popular  author  of  this  book  has  conferred  a  favor  on  the  public,  for  which  she 
deserves  something  more  than  thanlcs.—  Ch.  Secretary. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  books  for  youth  that  we  have  seen.  —  Cong.  Journal. 

A  book  of  more  than  common  excellence.  How  often  have  we  wished  that  all  the 
youth  of  our  land  might  become  familiar  with  its  contents-  —  ^h.  Mirror.  X 


CHAMBERS'S    WORKS. 


CHAMBERS'S  HOME  BOOK  AJsD  POCKET  MISCEL- 
LANY.  Containing  a  Choice  Selection  of  Interesting  and  Instructive 
Eeading  for  the  Old  and  the  Yoking.    Six  vols.     16nio,  cloth,  3,00. 

This  work  is  considered  fully  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  either  of  the  Chambers's 
other  works  in  interest,  and,  like  them,  contains  a  vast  fund  of  valuable  information. 
Following  somewhat  the  plan  of  the  "Miscellany,"  it  is  admirably  adiipted  to  the 
echool  or  the  family  library,  furnishing  ample  variety  for  every  class  of  readers,  both 
>ld  and  young. 

We  do  not  know  how  it  is  possible  to  publish  so  much  good  reading  matter  at  such 
alow  price.  "SVe  speak  a  good  word  for  the  literary  excellence  of  the  stories  in  tliis 
■work ;  we  hope  our  people  will  introduce  it  into  all  their  families,  in  order  to  drive 
away  the  miserable  flashy-trashy  stuff  so  often  found  in  the  hands  of  our  young 
people  of  both  sexes.  —  Scientific  American. 

Both  an  entertaining  and  instructive  work,  as  it  is  a  very  cheap  one.  —  Puritan  Bee. 

It  cannot  but  have  an  extensive  circulation.  —  Albany  Exin-ess. 

Of  all  the  series  of  cheap  books,  this  promises  to  be  the  best  —  Bangor  Mercury. 

If  any  person  wishes  to  read  for  amusement  or  profit,  to  kill  time  or  improve  it,  get 
"  Chambers's  Home  Book."  —  Chicago  Times. 

The  Chambers  are  confessedly  the  best  caterers  for  popular  and  useful  reading  in 
the  world.  —  Willis's  Home  JournaL 

A  very  entertaining,  instructive,  and  popular  work.  —  iT.  Y.  Commercial. 

The  articles  are  of  that  attractive  sort  which  suits  us  in  moods  of  indolence  when 
Tre  would  linger  half  way  between  wakefulness  and  sleep.  They  require  just  thought 
and  activity  enough  to  keep  our  feet  from  the  land  of  Nod,  without  forcing  us  to  run, 
^7alk,  or  even  stand.  —  Eclectic,  Portland. 

It  is  just  the  thing  to  amuse  a  leisure  hour,  and  at  the  same  time  combines  instruc- 
tion with  amusement.  —  Borer  Inquirer. 

ilessrs.  Chambers,  of  Edinburgh,  have  become  famous  wherever  the  English  lan- 
guage is  spoken  and  read,  for  their  interesting  and  instructive  publications.  They 
combine  instruction  with  amusement,  and  throughout  they  breathe  a  spirit  of  the 
purest  morality. —  Chicago  Tribune. 

CHAMBERS'S  REPOSITORY  OE  INSTRUCTIVE  AND 
AMUSING  PAPERS.  With  Illustrations.  An  entirely  New  Series, 
containing  Original  Articles,    p.  260,  IGmo,  cloth,  per  vol.  50  cents. 

The  Messrs.  Chambers  have  recently  commenced  the  publication  of  this  work,  un- 
der the  title  of  "Chambers's  Repositoky  of  Ixsteuctive  a.vd  Amusing 
Tracts,"  similar  in  style,  etc.,  to  tlie  "  Miscellany,"  which  has  maintained  an  enor- 
mous circulation  of  more  than  eighty  thousand  copies  ia  England,  and  has  already 
reached  nearly  the  same  in  this  country.  Arrangements  have  been  made  by  the 
'  American  publishers,  to  issue  the  work  simultaneously  with  the  English  edition,  a 
volume  every  two  months,  to  continue  until  the  whole  series  is  completed.  Each 
volume  complete  in  itself,  and  will  be  sold  in  sets  or  single  volumes. 

^r  Commendatory  Letters,  Reviews,  Notices,  &c.,  of  each  of  Chambers's  works, 
sufficient  to  make  a  good  sized  duodecimo  volume,  have  been  received  by  the  pub- 
lishers, but  room  here  will  only  allow  giving  a  specimen  of  the  vast  multitude  at 
hand.  They  <ire  all  popular,  and  contain  valuable  instructive  and  entertaining  read- 
ing—such as  should  be  found  in  every  family,  school,  and  college  library. 

F 


WORKS  BY  DR.  TWEEDIE. 


GLAD  TIDINGS  ;  or,  The  Gospel  of  Peace.  A.  serks  of  Daily 
Meditations  for  Christian  Disciples.  By  Rev.  "V'Z.  Iv.  Tweedie, 
D.  D.  With  an  elegant  Illustrated  Title-page.  16mo,  cloth. 
63  cents. 

These  meditations,  though  brief,  are  comprehensive  and  ^'eighty.  It  is  re- 
markable for  condensation,  for  a  deep  evangelical  tone,  and  for  putting  itself 
into  direct  contact  v,-ith  the  conscience  and  the  heart.  —  Albany  Argus. 

We  heartily  wish  this  little  book  were  in  every  Christian  family,  and  could 
be  carefully  read  through  by  every  Christian.  —  iV.  Y.  Evangelist. 

This  sweet  little  volume  challenges  our  warmest  commendation.  Every 
page  glows  with  Christian  example  and  goodness.  The  perusal  of  one  chapter 
will  awake  a  keener  relish  for  the  commencement/)f  another.  The  Frontispiece, 
representing  the  shepherds*  watch  of  their  flocks  by  night,  is  stiblimely  beauti^ 
ful.  —  Lawrence  Courier. 

A  LAMP   TO   THE   PATH  ;   or,  the  Bible  in  the  Heart,  the 
/    Home,   and  the   Market-place.      With    an  elegant  Illustrated 
Title-page.     16mo,  cloth.      t3  cents. 

The  power,  the  beauty,  and  the  necessity  of  religion  in  the  heart,  the  home, 
th§  workshop,  the  market-place,  the  professions,  and  in  social  intercourse,  are 
happily  illustrated.  It  is  a  jewel,  and  should  enrich  everj'  family  library.  The 
last  chapter  is  worthy  of  being  engraven,  as  with  the  point  of  a  diamond,  on 
every  human  heart.  —  Southern  Literary  Messenger. 

This  little  volume  brings  Christianity  home  to  the  bosoms  and  business  of 
men.  It  is  a  lucid,  impressive,  and  beautiful  exposition  of  Christian  obliga- 
tions. —  Albany  Argtcs. 

SEED-TIME  AND  HARVEST  ;  or.  Sow  Well  and  Reap  Well 
A  Book  for  the  Young.  With  an  elegant  Illustrated  Title-page. 
16mo,  cloth.    63  cents.  \ 

An  excellent  book,  more  particularly  designed  for  young  readers ;  but  persons 
of  all  ages  may  derive  pleasure  and  profit  from  its  perusal.  — JV.  Y.  Commercial. 

No  person  can  read  It  attentively,  without  feeling  that  there  is  an' importance 
atta<*ed  even  to  what  seem  to  be  his  most  indifferent  actions.  —  Puritan  Bcc. 

A  most  precious  volume  this  to  the  young,  taking  their  first  step  and  first  look 
in  life  •,  teaching  them  that  if  they  would  reap  well,  they  must  sow  well ;  that 
if  they  would  enjoy  an  old  age  of  honor,  they  must  be  trained  in  youth  to  vir- 
tue. —  Dr.  Sprague,  Albany  Spectator. 

THE  MORN  OF  LIFE  ;  or.  Examples  of  Female  Excellence. 
A  Book  for  Young  Ladies.     16mo,  cloth.     In  press. 

4®=  The  above  works,  by  Dr.  Tweedie,  are  of  unifonn  size  and  style.  They 
are  most  charming,  pious,  and  instructive  works,  beautifully  gotten  up,  and 
well  adapted  for  "  gift-books." 

FAMILY  WORSHIP  ;  or,  the  Morning  and  Evening  Sacrifice. 
•    One  volume.     Octavo,  cloth,     hi  press.  (j.) 


THE  CRUISE  OE  THE  NORTE  STAR:    . 

A  NARRATIVE  OF  THE  EXCURSION  MADE  BY  MR. 
VANDERCELT'S  PARTY,  IN  THE  STEAM  YACHT,  in  her 
Voyage  to  England,  Russia,  Denmark,  France,  Spain,  Italy, 
Malta,  Turkey,  Madeira,  etc.  By  Rev.  John  Overtox  ChotjleSj 
D.  D.  With  elegant  Illustrations,  and  fine  Likenesses  of  Com- 
modore Yanderbilt  and  Capt.  Eldridge.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  backs 
and  sides.     $1.50. 

The  cruise  of  the  Xorth  Star  was  an  event  of  almost  national  concern,  and 
was  watched  with  universal  interest.  This  volmne  is  as  different  from  ordinary 
bool^s  of  travel  as  the  cruise  of  the  North  Star  was  different  from  an  ordinary 
trip  to  Europe.    We  need  not  bespeali  for  it  many  readers.  —  Providence  Jour. 

-The  American  people  ought  to  he  proud  of,  and  grateful  to,  Cornelius  Yan- 
derbilt. This  man  has  done  more  than  a  dozen  presidents  to  give  America  a 
respected  name  *n  Europe.  In  the  person  of  Cornelius  Yanderbilt,  American 
enterprise  told  the  people  of  Europe  what  it  could  do.  The  desire  to  get  this 
curious  narrative  was  so  great  that  the  whole  of  the  first  edition  went  off  in  two 
days  I  —  Star  of  the  West. 

Those  who  remember  to  have  met  with  a  very  interesting  work,  published 
some  two  years  ago,  entitled  "  Young  Americans  Abroad,"  will  be  glad  to  learn 
that  here  is  another  book  of  travels  from  the  same  source.  Do  you  say  your 
shelves  are  all  Cull  of  books  of  travel .'  — v/e  reply,  with  Leigh  Hunt,  —  then  put 
in  another  shelf,  and  place  this  one  on  it.  —  Methodist  Protestant. 

The  work  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining,  and,  in  its  way,  vivid,  portraitures 
of  scenes  in  the  Old  World,  that  we  have  ever  seen.  — Poston  Transcript. 

The  book  is  in  many  respects  as  novel  as  the  occasion  which  produced  it  was 
unique  and  memorable.  Both  the  accomplished  author  and  the  publishers  de- 
serve the  best  thanks  for  so  tasteful  a  record  of  a  performance  which  has  reflected 
so  much  credit  abroad  upon  American  enterprise.  —  N.  Y.  Courier  tfc  Enquii-er. 

This  work  is  ititeresting,  not  only  as  a  memorial  of  the  North  Star,  and  her 
trip  to  Europe,  but  also  as  a  record  of  European  travel,  narrated  in  a  lively 
manner,  by  a  gentleinan  whose  taste  and  attainments  eminently  qualify  him 
for  the  task.  —  NevJ  Yorlc,  Times. 

Never  before  did  a  private  individual  make  so  magnificent  an  excursion  as 
Mr.  Yanderbilt.  Dr.  Ohoules,  who  was  one  of  his  guests,  has  given  to  the  world 
a  charming  account  of  this  unique  voyage,  in  a  beautifully  printed  and  Illus- 
trated volume.  "\Ye  commend  it  to  our  readers  as  a  very  entertaining,  well- 
written  book.  —  Zioii's  Herald. 

The  book  will  be  eagerly  perused,  as  a  record  of  one  of  the  unique  occurrences 
of  the  age  ;  is  written  with  a  kind  of  drawing-room,  etiqiiette-like  style,  is  m.el- 
'low  in  sentiment,  and  is  wholly  destitute  of  that  straining  after  the  sublime, 
and  stranding  in  the  "  high-falutin,"  that  characterize  the  efl'usions  of  the  tour- 
ist generally.  —  Chicago  Advertiser. 

This  beautiful  vohnne  describes,  in  a  chaste  and  readable  manner,  the  for- 
tunes of  the  widely-known  excursion  of  the  princely  New  York  merchant  and 
his  family  and  guests.  From  the  eclat  of  the  voyage  itself,  and  the  pleasant 
way  of  Dr.  Choules'  account  of  it,  we  think  the  book  is  destined  to  have  —  what . 
it  deserves  —  a  very  large  sale.  —  Congreyationalist.  (f ) 


NATIONAL  SERIES  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORIES. 

By  Rev.  Josepli  Baiivard. 


PLYMOUTH   AND    THE   PILGRIMS-,    or,  Incidents   of 

Adventures  in  tlie   History  of  the  First  Settlers.      Witli  Illustrations. 

16mo,  cloth,  GO  cts. 

When  once  taken  up  it  will  not  be  laid  down  without  regret  until  finished.  —  Courier. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  volume.  —  Am.  Traveller. 

Topular  reading,  particularly  adapted  to  entertain  and  instruct  youth.  —  Mercantile 
Journal. 

Every  New  Englander,  wherever  he  resides,  should  own  this  book.  —  Scienitfic  Am. 

An  extremely  interesting  volume,  written  in  a  plain  but  vigorous  tty  Ic,  adapted  to 
the  young,  but  will  be  read  with  interest  by  the  older  ones.  —  Ch.  Freeman. 

Iliglilj'  attractive  in  style  and  instructive  in  matter.  — jV.  I'.  Com.  Adv. 

NOVELTIES    OF  THE   NEW  WORLD  ;  an  Account  of 

the  Adventures  and  Discoveries  of  the  First  Explorers  of  North  America. 

With  numerous  Illustrations.    16mo,  cloth,  CO  cts. 

A  series  of  books  which  will  serve  as  valuable  introductions  and  enticements  to 
more  extended  historical  reading.—  ^m.  Traveller. 

It  has  all  the  interest  of  a  romance.  —  Portland  Transcript. 

TVe  have  seen  the  boys  bend  over  these  pages,  unwilling  to  leave  them,  either  for 
play  or  sleep;  and  when  finished,  inquiring  anxiously  when  the  next  would  come. — 
Watchman  and  Reflector. 

Neither  too  childish  for  adults,  nopyet  too  difficult  of  comprehension  for  children. 
They  will  delight  as  well  as  instruct.  —  Jfercantile  Journal. 

Interesting  scenes  and  events  in  the  New  World  are  here  brought  together  and  in- 
vested with  a  charm  that  is  irresistible  by  old  as  well  as  young.  —  Ch.  Intelligencer. 

ROMANCE  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY;  or,  an  Account 
of  the  Settlement  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia,  embracing  the  tragic 
Incidents  connected  with  the  Spanish  Settlements,  French  Colonies,  Eng- 
lish Plantation  at  Jamestown,  Captivity  of  Captain  Smith,  the  Adven- 
tures of  Pocahontas,  etc.  With  Illustrations.  60  cents. 
All  the  interest  of  romance,  and  the  addition  of  veritable  history.  —  riiritan  Rec. 
It  is  a  most  pleasing  and  instructive  book.  ^  Home  Journal. 

Interesting  as  a  novel,  and  a  thousand  times  more  profitable  reading.  —  Lit.  JA'S. 
Every  library  should  be  furnished  with  this  Series  of  American  Histories.  —  ^'.  E, 
Farmer. 
Admirably  fitted  for  family  reading,  and  calculated  to  interest  the  young.  —  Trav. 
At'ractive  series  of  books  founded  on  the  early  history  of  our  country;  it  will  make 
a  most  valuable  addition  to  all  family  libraries.  —  Arthur's  Gazette. 

No  more  interesting  and  instructive  reading  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  youth.  — 
Portland   Transcript. 

The  series  will  embrace  the  most  interesting  and  important  events  which  have  oc- 
curred in  the  United  States  since  the  settlement  of  the  country.    Each  volume  to  be 


gi'rlu  rviil)  |.o)5ii,Ut  StxUs  fur  gouto. 


THE  AIMWELL  STORIES; 

Jl  series  of  volumes,  illustrative  of  youthful  charao- 
tjir,  axd  combixixg  ixstructiox  w^ith  amusement. 

By  WALTER   AIMWELL, 

Author  of  "The  Boy's  Own  Guide,"  "Roy's  Book  of  ilorals  and  Manners,"  &c. 

With   Numerons   Ulnstratious. 


The  volumes  v.-ill  contahi  about  300  pages,  16mo,  each,  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt 
backs.    Price  63  cents. 

iKS°"  Each  volume  \vi\\  he  complete  and  independent  of  itself,  but  the  series 
vill  be  connected  together  by  a  partial  identity  of  characters,  localities,  &c. 

The  flrst  two  volumes  of  this  series  are  now  ready.    They  are  entitled  — 


OSC  AK 


Or,   the    EOT    WHO    HAD    HIS    OWN    WAT, 

AND 

CLINTON; 

Or,    BOT-LIFE    IN    THE    COUNTRY. 


■Notices  of  ©lintoix. 

Well,  the  boys  have  read  it,  and  pronounce  it  "flrst-7-ate."  We  confirm  their 
Judgment.  It  enters  into  the  heart  of  the  boy  ;  comprehends  his  thoughts,  his 
wishes,  and  his  temptations  ;  mingles  in  his  sports ;  stinnilates  him  in  his 
studies,  and  implants  right  principles  and  noble  views.  It  is  a  safe  book,  an 
entertaining  book,  and  a  useful  book.  —  TJie  Lidejaendent,  N.  Y. 

We  attempted  to  read  this  book,  but  the  boys  got  hold  of  it,  and,  morning, 
noon,  and  night,  they  kept  hold  of  it,  until  one,  and  another,  and  another  still, 
had  read  it  through.  If  their  judgment  is  worth  anything,  the  book  is  ciipital. 
one  of  the  very  best  of  its  kind.  —  N.  Y.  Evangelist. 

Wc  like  "  Clinton  "  for  its  naturalness.  It  is  a  narrative  about  real  life,  pleas- 
antly described  in  just  the  way  to  attract  young  readers,  resembling,  and  quite 
equal  to,  the  "  Rollo  "  series.  -^  Christian  Register. 

A  better  book,  as  a  mere  book  of  combined  amusement  and  Instruction  for 
boys,  could  scarcely  be  (o-and.  —  Saturday  Evening  Mdil. 

"  Ajjrimc  look,"  as  we  heard  a  little  boy  say  who  had  just  got  through  with 
it. —  Yojxth's  Conuianion,  Boston. 

A  better  book  a  boy  can  hardly  rea.6..  —  Forrester''s  Boys''  and  Girhs^  Moguzine. 

The  boy  who  begins  it  is  sure  to  perase  it  from  title-page  to  finis  ;  and  he  who 
does  so  can  hardly  ftiil  of  wishing  to  be  a  better  and  wiser  boy.  —  Zion's  Herald. 

One  of  the  best  books  for  boj's  we  have  ever  seen.  i;ts  descriptions  are  exact. 
and  all  its  details  are  those  of  actual  life.  Its  moral  and  rehj^jious  intluence  is  ex 
cellent.—  Omgregationalist.  (IC 


A 


I 


